Drunkard, Hobo, Liar
by NullNoMore
Summary: Frye starts a bar fight. Case the Headcase fails to relax. Irina is disappointed in everybody. So, average night at the Repenta, right? All because the fallout from failed missions lasts longer than one evening. Swears, pain, comfort. All the good things belong to Monolith Soft.
1. Drunkard

**Drunkard**

**a/n: Frye is drinking at the Repenta. INSIDE at the Repenta. I know, right? Things will not go smoothly.**

**Swears, angst, problematic stuff.**

**All the good things belong to Monolith Soft, except Arya was named by ChronoBlader (see their stories for a much sweeter NLA, so much fun to read!). The booth full of OCs that could wreck house are mine. The behavior by Arya is thanks to a blog by a waitress, I'll see if I can find the source.**

* * *

It was a good night to be inside, drinking. A cold snap had settled on New Los Angeles, temperatures dropping a good 20 degrees, and the moons were barely cutting through the threatening clouds. No one was hoping for snow, but everyone was readying themselves for icy rain. All in all, he should be happy that he could be back inside, enjoying the bar in the Repenta Diner instead of the patio furniture by the parking lot. Happy, not grateful, since he'd served his full two week ban for brawling, but still glad for warmth and light and dampness only in the form of droplet rings on cocktail napkins.

Frye lifted his shot glass in a toast to a passing bartender, who understandably ignored the gesture. There were disadvantages to officially sanctioned drinking. The staff at the Repenta were under strict orders to pour out drinks only one at a time for Frye, with an intervening buffer that always seemed to grow longer when what he really needed was another shot right away.

His gesture really had been one of contentment, not an ask. More of a request for acknowledgement, and it hadn't worked for that either. That was another bonus of drinking in the parking lot. People knew to find him there, and if somebody walked up to him, he knew it wasn't luck of the draw. They really wanted to talk to him. Sure, it was usually followed immediately by an offer of a mission; he wasn't that vain to think that there were many people in NLA that just wanted to shoot the breeze with him. But still. No awkward chit chat with someone whose eyes were flicking around the bar as they desperately searched for a reason to move away. Besides, a few of the other parking lot kids were funny, when they weren't too wasted.

He scanned the room, wondering who might be up to talking to him in a friendly sort of way. He didn't want any drama though, so he'd have to be careful who he picked. People kept nagging him about how he acted, in the bar and out of it. Irina had chewed him out just yesterday. She'd been doing that more and more now that she was gunning to be a leader in Interceptors. He could see how she'd be a good choice, if they were moving towards ranks and roles again. Inevitable, and he didn't mind the end of equality too much, because that had also looked a lot like chaos when they were first stranded here. He could ignore dressing downs, no worries, even if they got backed up by punishment duty or whatever, and he knew Irina wasn't angry at him, just at all the trouble that followed. "Don't you ever get tired of being trash, Frye? I'm telling you, buster, you need to control yourself. If you could just avoid starting a bar fight during, what, every freaking night? Every time, Frye, and I don't know why Arya hasn't kicked you out of her parking lot at that. Something about your dumbass makes her go soft."

Buster, heh. That was a new one. Irina was wrong though. Arya was the last thing from soft. Frye looked past the laughing, chatting people, until he spotted the slim figure of the manager/owner. She was swerving just a bit too fast through the crowd, directly towards him. Not soft at all. She slowed momentarily and twitched her head a fraction towards one particular patron, her eyes locking hard onto Frye's.

Frye drained his glass and made a face like his drink was nasty medicine. He'd noticed that guy already. Dirty, mumbling at people that tried to speak to him, shifting from table to table but never staying long. If he'd ordered a beer, Frye had missed it. Still in his gear but thank god unarmed, at least as far as Frye could tell. Arya's bouncer was getting pretty good at that part of the job, patting people down and making sure they'd hit their lockers before coming inside. Not doing anything inappropriate, not yet, but Frye would bet an order of egg-rolls that Arya wanted him out without officially asking him to leave. Frye didn't know who might be vouching for this waste of skin, but he understood that loyalties within teams, within whole divisions, could protect even the worst person in NLA. Irina's heart-to-heart with him was proof enough.

Funny, his brother had asked him almost the same thing today. "Don't you ever get tired of it, being outside? You have a choice, you know." Frye didn't mind that nagging either, especially because Phog knew more than Irina. He knew Frye had a choice to step in or not. Honestly, tonight it was cold enough that maybe he'd let Arya use her own damn charms to get that guy to switch to black coffee and an early night.

Then the guy slammed into a table at a booth filled with women, and leaned into the girl sitting on the outer seat. Frye watched her freeze, refusing to look up at the figure that had grabbed her shoulder. The other girls were squawking, raising a protest that would make the bum move on if he knew anything. In a minute, the bouncer or Arya would step in, or the booth would unleash an unholy mess of hurt on the dude (Frye had teamed with a few and had seen them take down indigen that could eat the entire bar if left unchecked). Or the woman who was being pawed would turn her baby doll eyes towards her assailant (eyes that Frye knew were green like sea glass, like leaves, like the ribs of Sylvalum), and a second later the hobo would drop to the ground, clutching his throat or groin or something.

Or more likely, Frye would be getting another two week ban, because he was already within arms' reach of the dude and he had momentum on his side.

_hiseyeswerebrokenbecausehehadseenherhehadseenherhehadseenherhehadseenher..._  
_hehadseenherfallingandtherewassomuchblueandherhead..._  
_somuchblueonthesandsoshewasdeadandmaybeifshewasherehewasdeadtoothiswashellbutwithtableservice_

* * *

**a/n: Hmm, which female OC has remarkably green eyes? That would be Case the Headcase. We'll hear her next, hopefully. And remember, if something is going scary for you at a bar, the waitress and bartender want to help, so send them a signal. That is not something I'm making up for a story. Write SOS on your bill, tell them when you order a drink or step out to the restroom, let them know, okay?**

**Next up: Case has been trying to relax, okay?**


	2. Hobo

**Drunkard, Hobo, Liar: Ch. 2, Hobo**

**a/n: Earlier that day, a Curator team paused to discuss how their mission was going. Cold and disappointing, to be honest. Also, what is _with _that new guy they recruited?**

**No swears. Too much game mechanics and limited understanding of maintenance.**

**All the good things belong to Monolith Soft, except the Curator team, because I make OCs constantly. Please send help, or a review.**

* * *

When Gary jumped down from the pilot's capsule, the cold hit him straight in the gut. He should have expected that. Things got warm in the pilot's seat, and his gear was designed more to keep him cool than to protect him from wind like a knife. He tensed his body, trying not to shake too obviously as he walked towards Nina. He needn't have worried. Nina was completely focused on her task of counting their take so far. She crouched over a row of rubbery, wrinkled sacs, muttering to herself.

"So how's it going?" he asked conversationally. His teeth chattered against his will.

She didn't look up. "If you insist on looking hot in that tight skell wear, you're gonna get cold whenever you hit the real world. Now shut up and lemme finish measuring."

Gary slapped his arms and hopped slightly from foot to foot. Maybe he should wait in his skell, like their third regular team member was smart enough to be doing. But he was today's team leader and Nina shouldn't be suffering alone out here. He examined her heavier gear quickly. Not much suffering appeared to be happening. He'd stick it out anyway. He had another task to get done.

Luckily, Nina finished her count before the icy wind could weaken Gary's resolve any further. "We're a good six short."

"I thought we had hit twice the number."

"Yeah, the number, but these things don't drop regularly, even with his help." She flicked a nod at the pick-up teammate who was sulking by the edge of the cliff. "Three of the ones we did get are too small, and two were shot to hell. And one ... I don't even know what went wrong. I mean, that's great in its own way. I'm kinda itching to spin out some theories because that could mean the acid sacs are crucial for the formation of ..."

Gary cut his fellow Curator off before she could continue her entomology master class. "Short version, Nina."

"If the gods of RNG are kind, we're gonna need to hit 10 more. If they aren't, dinner may be late."

"But we have Treasure Hobo on our side," Gary pointed out. The two of them turned to study the newest teammate. Then both looked away quickly, lest he catch them staring. They needn't have bothered. He was ignoring them completely.

Nina snorted and started to tag and pack the materials they'd collected. "You gonna go give him the money talk?"

"Just about to do it now."

"Good luck." She stood up suddenly and reached to grab Gary's elbow. "I don't know, Gar'. Maybe give this one a break. Something feels off about him."

"Don't worry. I know what I'm doing."

Gary walked over to where the Treasure Hobo was squatting. The unkind nickname had stuck from the moment the man had joined their team. This morning, scrolling through the recruiting board, Gary had found the specs his trio always looked for: ground pounder, rifle, treasure XX to increase the rate of drops. The plan was for the BLADE-for-hire to stay on foot and paint the targets so Gary's team could blast the over-leveled spider indigen from the comfort of their skells, their missiles guided to the right appendage. Not as accurate as all of them on the ground, sure, but faster and safer and easier. They were Curators, not Harriers, for crying out loud; their real job was back in NLA, trying to figure out something, anything, about the bits of flora and fauna they brought home. Besides, the guy's treasure augments might even make the balance go in their favor.

Then they had met him. It was such a shock, they'd almost gone out as a three member squad. The guy was practically grey from all the grime on his face and hands. His darkened gear was ragged, patched at some points with utility tape, left torn in other places. One pocket hung on by a few threads, weighted down by a bulge of ammo. Gary had done a quick scan to make sure they had the right guy, but, yeah, the intensity of his treasure levels almost hurt Gary's eyes. And his weapons were in good working condition. In fact, they seemed to be the only dirt free part of him.

He was in the process of disassembling his assault rifle when Gary reached him. Maybe Gary had timed it that way, maybe not. Okay, he had definitely timed it that way. Treasure Hobo didn't interact with the team much, but Gary had noticed that he cleaned his weapon regularly, at every break in fact. So when they had stopped for a count, Gary knew it was only a matter of minutes before he could count on the Hobo's ranged weapon being out of commission. Gary'd risk the mellee one for the moment.

"So, uh, my dude, I wanted to talk to you about the reward situation." Nothing but the snap of metal in reply. "Yeah, so you see, skells come with overhead. Lots of it. Fuel, insurance, repairs. I'm sure you understand. So my team, we usually split the reward differently." Gary waited out a second of hard shivering before continuing. "One share for the BLADE, one for the skell. So today we're planning on splitting seven ways. You get me?"

The stranger lifted the barrel of his dismantled gun directly at Gary, peering through the empty tube. Gary flinched, but the blank blue gaze lasted only a second. Then Treasure Hobo lowered his matted head over his weapon and started swabbing madly at the barrel.

Gary coughed with more than discomfort. "So, okay, just wanted to give you a heads up. You're okay with that, right?" He coughed again.

Something like a broken chuckle came from the hobo. He mumbled what Gary hoped was "okay". Gary watched as he rapidly reassembled his weapon. Every step was careful but done at the speed of lightening. The hobo tipped the gun up, stroking the length of it very slowly, and for a moment the solid barrel divided his grimy face. Then he tilted his head up and licked the tip of the gun.

The Curator backed away from the cliff edge, with its sweeping view of Primordia and the safety of NLA. When he had a few meters between them, he shouted, "We're going to do a few more runs, but we'll be back in NLA for dinner. Just like I promised." Gary heard a response but didn't care. He trotted smartly to his skell and swung back into it.

Oh man, the review he was gonna post on this guy when he got back home. One star, and acid enough to knock the most recent one off the top, because if he'd had suspicions as to the validity of that Mediator turned wanna-be Curator before, the fact that the idiot had praised Treasure Hobo confirmed all his doubts.

_theywerefightingongrassnotsandsoheknewitwasadifferentdaynoonewasgoingtolose_  
_No. Focus. Remember to check the_  
_colderthanSylvalumsoheknewheknewheknewitwasdifferentnoonewasgoing_  
_Remember toscirpobloodwasn'tbluesotherewasnoreasontothinkabout_  
_No. Focus. Get ready. You can atleastdothatmakesureyoucanprotect_  
_Focus. What had Mondo said? Be careful how_  
_carefulhowyoucleanyourweaponssondon'twanttoloseyourhead_

* * *

**a/n: Old hands now know who the Hobo is. A lot of that stuff I did not make up. Poor man.**

**Also: I am actually thinking of romance and H.B. I've left that topic alone because other people were (and still are) doing great work in that area, but now my brain is mumbling about Cross and amnesia and Interceptors and biathlon events. We'll see.**

**Honestly, reviews make my week, so drop one if you are still reading.**

**Next up: Case has been waiting patiently, trying to relax.**


	3. Liar

**Drunkard, Hobo, Liar: Ch. 3, Liar.**

**a/n: Case the Headcase, my baby Cross, is having a hard-earned girls' night out. At the Repenta. So relaxing. See how relaxed she is? Very relaxed.**

**Maybe swears (I'm not checking, add some if they are missing), definitely violence.**

**All the good things belong to Monolith Soft, but 4 out of 5 women are OCs.**

* * *

"And that's why you need to check that your lipstick is smudge proof!" announced the woman with hair like a storm cloud. "So ... you ... don't ... smudge!" Her words were interspersed with loud kisses on the cheek and neck of the woman sitting next to her.

Lucy giggled loudly and pushed Marguerite away playfully, which is to say, hardly at all. "Stop it! You're tickling me!"

"Challenge accepted!" Marguerite laughed before pouncing. The result was more squealing from the other side of the horseshoe booth, and Lucy almost falling into the aisle.

"Knock it off, you guys. You're making the drinks slop over," chided Alexa.

"Easy solution to that," smiled the older woman sitting directly next to the chaos. Lila lifted her shot glass and slurped pointedly.

Case's beer was already low enough that slopping was unlikely. She smiled as she watched the other two shove and tease themselves back into relative calmness. This evening out was turning out great, she thought. She'd laughed twice now. Once at that really raunchy joke Lucy told, not so much because it was that funny, but it was cute how Lucy blushed bright pink as she struggled to get to the end. Also because Case had only recently learned what a mermaid was, and the freshness of that knowledge still felt a little amazing. And now at this ... performance? Something was off, or so it seemed to Case. She looked at Lila, and knew she was right. Lila had that "don't believe it, not going to argue" face going on. Not a bad face, though, so Case would not worry about it. Not tonight.

No, not tonight. She took a deep breath and realized she wasn't smiling. Whoops, that was not in the plan, so she took a small sip of her beer as a cover. The plan was, she reminded herself, to have a night out. With friends. Well, the closest thing she had to friends. A blushing ex-teammate, a loud potential teammate, a sly ex-boss, and that girl from the Outfitters that was friends with anyone that liked skells or could pretend to like them.

Case had been doing good, by any metric. Back in BLADE for 3 months, only injured once, and hitting all the markers for eating right, sleeping right, answering right. She'd even cut one hard thing out of her life, the person she was not thinking about right now. Another BLADE that was wrong in every way for her, and vice versa. She'd only seen him a couple times in the past month, not since they'd accidentally teamed together, and yes, she was going to use that one-week stay at the Mim Maintenance Center in her favor. Hadn't seen him at all the past week, come to think of it.

She set her glass down, made sure not to catch Lila's eye, and tried to be excited about dinner. The Repenta wasn't really known for its food, but it was convenient for workers in the Industrial sector. She looked across the crowded room and to her surprise noticed Frye leaning against the bar. Frye, indoors, would miracles ever cease? Even at a distance and blocked by the crowd, he looked kind of angry. Maybe she could go over and talk to him. At least then she wouldn't have to pretend to smile.

The table had gone dead silent. Case looked across at Marguerite. Her face was furious. "Bug off," she snarled. Case wasn't surprised by the sudden hostility, only resigned. She'd sensed the figure shambling through the diner. She didn't have to see him to smell him, or to hear his wheezing as he'd moved through the crowd. Case had decided to ignore him, whoever he was. Marguerite's warning let her know he was now directly beside her. She didn't flinch when he leaned over her, or when he grabbed her shoulder. In a second, she was going to push him away, but she needed to be calm about it.

She realized her right hand was already clenched around her dinner knife. How long had it been there? Was she actually about to brainjack a dude in the Repenta? She was having trouble unclenching her fist. The metal was warm and her arm muscles were shaking with fatigue. She was suddenly afraid that she'd need her other hand to peel her fingers loose. Exactly how long she been gripping the knife? Had she been about to brainjack her friends to make them think she was okay?

The reeking stranger brushed her neck with his free hand, and her whole body started shaking. She couldn't make out what he was hissing. She still hadn't let go of the damn silverware. The rest of the table was rising to push him away, but they might as well stay seated. Case was going to do something bad in exactly no seconds left and that was so not tonight's plan.

One second later: Cold air on her neck. An absence of stranger and hand, and the presence of Frye, howling like an animal, punching him repeatedly straight in the face. The third punch connected perfectly.

Next second: the stranger falling over, flat on his back, as slowly as Case fell in her dreams, arms wide, eyes closed, falling into endlessness. Frye wasn't satisfied, following him to the floor, but it was too late. Case had recognized him.

Next second: Case on her feet, pushing Frye straight into Lucy's lap. She stood over the unconscious BLADE, warding off everyone, friend, bouncer, bystander. No one was getting to the downed man without going through Case first.

At least she'd left the knife on the table. She'd try to be proud of that later.

* * *

**a/n: Lucy is a Reclaimer and would love to demonstrate to certain other Reclaimers how kissable she is; she's shown up in 1 (one) story as Case's teammate (Inktober 2017, 23 Juicy). Marguerite doesn't have fic yet, but she is a Harrier that is going to knock all memory of Irina from another OC's brain. Lila has so much fic it's not even funny, and currently is managing a skell refueling station next to the West Gate. Case used to work for her, back when Case had been bounced from BLADE. (Funnily enough, she had brainjacked a dude. He deserved it. Someday I'll put that up.)**

**Next up: I've run out of title. Case will be irritated. Maybe I will finally name the Hobo. But you probably know who he is already, don't you?**


	4. Drunkard's Walk

**Drunkard, Hobo, Liar: Ch. 4, Drunkard's Walk**

**a/n: Case needs to get the hobo home, but it's going to take some effort.**

**Violence, swears, OCs.**

**All the good things belong to Monolith Soft, except for Case the Headcase and a few girlfriends.**

* * *

Case kept hoping it would get easier as the night progressed. Surely nothing could be harder than muscling an unconscious BLADE through the crowd at the Repenta. The man in her arms was out cold, nothing but dead weight when they reached the door, and she was sweating even with the help of Alexa half-heartedly tugging at his feet. They needed Lila to manage the door for them. Lucy was still at the table, busy sweet-talking the manager and bouncer into calm. She had been flinging flirtatious glances at Frye for good measure, with less success. More effective was Marguerite's cheerful death grip on his elbow.

The fresh air was aggressively icy, and Alexa melted back into the bar, mumbling about talking to Frye. Lila didn't leave, but she didn't offer to help Case move the unconscious man, now upright and listing against her shoulder. Case grimly started the long walk back to the barracks. They'd gone a few steps when Lila peeled off at a run towards a pair of interested Mediators, newly arrived at the edge of the parking lot. Out of the corner of her eye, Case saw the older woman smack blindly into them and then crumple into a heap at their feet. She gripped her burden harder and picked up the pace, the toes of his boots dragging with each step.

It didn't get easier. The man came to about the time they reached the edge of the Commercial District. Instead of becoming easier to guide, he started to struggle. He gave a sort of bark and lurched wildly to the left, dragging Case along with him into the low ornamental planters that edged the patio of Army Pizza. Unprepared for the shift in weight and blind to the barrier, they both toppled over onto a small clutch of chattering aliens waiting for their table reservation.

If only they had been Nopon. Those fur-balls would at least have cushioned their fall. Instead, they found themselves rolling on the ground, surrounded by amphibious alien pizza freaks. Case didn't waste breath apologizing to the Ma-non, who were busy squeaking with displeasure tinted by resignation. She did spare a glance to see if she knew any of them. By now, she would have appreciated a little help with her flailing companion from anyone, even if they were only waist high. Again, no luck for Case. She was on her own. She rolled to her feet, then grabbed her fellow BLADE by his belt to pull him upright.

"Get a hold of yourself," she hissed, shaking him as she did so. His response was a mumbled stream of nonsense.

"... so much blue you aren't it was I saw your head and it was..."

"Shut up and keep moving." She jammed her shoulder under his arm, almost lifting him off his feet again, and forced them both into a fast walk. He kept trying to swing around to face her, but she had her arm tight around his waist, her hand clutching the side of his body armor, providing more lift. "Keep ... moving ... dammit ..."

It wasn't getting easier, being this close to him, smelling that unclean mix of metal and oily smoke and indigen guts, layered over the tired plastic smell of unwashed mimeosome. She gripped him harder. Cleanliness was a thing you had to maintain. No one could see how well you were eating or sleeping, but they could and would judge you by your hygiene. That was the last thing a smart BLADE gave up on.

For one moment, she hoped he was straightening out, as they approached the turn that lead to the Administrative district and safety. She'd flinched at the fountain with its sad memories, and he'd slowed his steps, pulling her to the right so they wouldn't even come close to it. But he hadn't continued the turn to move along the long empty bridge. Instead, he'd pulled even sharper, toward the edge of the platform and the several story drop into the gel moat. He waved towards the emptiness. "... found you that time we were falling drowning you were choking ..."

"Nope. No way. Not tonight." She was going to slap him in a second, honestly she was. She let go of him for a moment, giving a sharp tug on his vest to spin him towards her, and prepared to punch him if necessary. But his expression was so gentle and lost when he looked at her, his blue eyes wavering all around her, that she dropped her fists and stared back.

Big mistake. He reached for her neck.

"Goddammit, Gwin!" she choked out. Grabbing his wrists wasn't going to stop him, no matter how painful she made it, not unless she was willing to break them. She froze, measuring the pressure, then jammed her fingers down between his hands and her throat. She had to ignore the tearing of her fingernails against her skin, but she managed it. There was no need to panic. She knew her strength. Slowly, inexorably, she loosened his grip. "No," she commanded.

"... I saw you you're dead so that means we aren't ..." His vague voice was at odds with his actions.

"No. I'm. Not." With each word she pulled his hands a little further, not so much away as outward, so that he was gripping her shoulders, not her neck. "Not that time, not now."

"I saw..."

"You saw nothing. Now, move it!" She lowered his head and barreled into his chest with a solid thud. He had the choice of falling backwards or turning and letting her pass. She snatched at his vest and dragged him along. After the first irregular strides, she released him and moved to his side, bumping him whenever he tried to stop. He continued to hesitate and stumble. She reached over and grabbed his wrist. "Loser buys the coffee," she panted. Then she started running as hard as she could, pulling him behind her.

* * *

**a/n: Hobo has been revealed. If you need to know why he's muttering about drowning in the gel, go read "The Great Skell Robbery." If you like Case and Gwin running, visit "Inktober 2017/1/Swift". If you need to know why Case flinches at the fountain, you're going to need patience because I haven't started that yet. I swear to mercy that that gun licking in Ch. 2 is in-game canon. Really.**

**Next up: Another chapter of "Fun Times with Case'n'Gwin", possibly with gratuitous Tatsu. (He is a good boy.)**


	5. Leftovers, with a Side of Liar

**Drunkard, Hobo, Liar: Ch. 5, Leftovers with a Side of Liar**

**a/n: There are more dangers in NLA than an unstable Interceptor. There are weirder allies than Case.**

**No swears. Hints at things unpublished, sorry not sorry.**

**All the good things belong to the geniuses at Monolith Soft, and as soon as there is a port to Switch (pretty please) I will play as Case.**

* * *

It was something of a miracle that Case and Gwin arrived at the barracks without further incident. She had been worried for a moment, as they were waiting for the giant freight elevator that would take them to the upper level. Gwin had recovered enough from the forced jog to start muttering and swaying again. Then an industrial skell had joined them for the trip. The two had been squeezed to one side of the platform, which gave Case the cover to grab Gwin's vest and hiss supportive threats into his ear for the length of the ride. Her words must have had some effect, because he followed docilely through the busy Division Alley, past dozens of other BLADEs reporting on missions, arguing over cards, repairing gear or skells. Everyone was too busy to pay attention to two unimportant grunts going home early on a Friday night. Case didn't relax her guard even when the doors to the barracks slid shut behind them. There was still the rec area to cross.

Sure enough, they were greeted by a cheeky shout, or at least her companion was. "Gwin! You missed a great dinner, if I do say so myself. Suid sliders with spicy carrot slaw." Gwin was beyond the ability to respond, but Case looked across the lounge to meet a pair of twinkling black eyes and a satisfied smirk. She nodded mutely at Lin, who was sitting on the sofa, surrounded by five glowing comm devices.

"Casey Case looks hungry," muttered Tatsu. He'd bounced to his tiny feet and was peering nervously at Case through the thick lenses of his glasses.

Lin laughed again. "We don't have any leftovers, because Irina swung by and ate almost as much as Tatsu here did. She can tell you all about it on your next mission, Gwin." She stared at them a moment. "Wow, you sure look like things went bad on today's mission. To be honest, you look horrible. Not you, Case, but Gwin looks like..."

The third person in the lounge area flicked a cooler glance at the new arrivals, then turned back to Lin. Elma gently chided the teenager. "Focus on your report, Lin. You asked for the privilege of giving the details on the newest shielding, so you need to finish those slides before tomorrow." Having delivered this comment, she again leaned over the back of the sofa, silently assessing Case and Gwin with her eerily blue eyes.

Case resisted the urge to fling Gwin and herself through the doors that led to the sleeping quarters. She tried to act normal instead. She nonchalantly shoved him against a wall near the kitchen, giving him a sharp look that she hoped would penetrate his bewildered brain. Then she shuffled over to the coffee machine. "Do you mind if we grab a few mugs for the road?" she asked quietly

"You might as well empty the pot," Lin shouted back, her head now bent over one communications device with a second screen balanced on her knee. "I need to brew some fresh stuff soon, before anyone important ... uh ... " The second comm device wobbled sharply. Lin ducked her head lower and finished with less volume, "... er, before anyone else comes by."

Case turned and grabbed a vacuum flask next to the machine. She determinedly filled the thermos, gripping it a little too tightly. Tatsu had joined her, bouncing pointlessly in the narrow space between counter and kitchen island. She tried not to spill any of the hot liquid on him. The coffee was black and sluggish, and her nose wrinkled from the slightly burnt smell, but she followed Lin's suggestion and poured it all in.

Tatsu was bumping against her knee too often for it to be an accident. She looked down at him and he held a small bulging sack up towards her. She recognized it as a standard Nopon travel meal; he'd given her one for breakfast once, when she'd been running late for an important briefing. It had been disgusting: leaves, twigs, and freeze dried insects. She'd eaten the whole thing and had felt tons better for it.

"Thanks, Tatsu," she whispered.

"Casey have anything to leave Tatsu? Weapons maybe?" he asked just as quietly.

She sidled away, awkwardly holding the thermos and travel meal in one hand and grabbing Gwin's elbow with the other. "Nope. Come on, Gwin." Then she fled.

* * *

**a/n: I am Team "Tatsu is not a chump!" and proud of it. We have team jackets. Case & Nopon travel meals seen in Inktober 2017 Ch. ****22/23, Trail/Juicy. Case once brainjacked someone using a thermos, but I haven't put that up yet.**

**Next up: Not sure, but it will probably be the Disaster Twins drinking coffee and tidying up. They might even vacuum the rug.  
**


	6. SRO Housing

**Drunkard 06, SRO Housing**

**a/n: Case and Gwin are safe and sound, if you have a generous definition of safe and sound.**

**Angst and violence, if you don't have a generous definition. Ridiculously short.**

**All the good things belong to Monolith Soft, and watch out for a Cross named Case if it ever gets ported to Switch.**

* * *

No one had used Gwin's room recently, maybe for days. Case could tell by the stale air, holding the taste of metal and paint and the furniture. Every room in the barracks had the exact same contents, the exact same smell, but most also held the memory of a person. Case thought this room had forgotten its owner. The room was cold, because nothing had moved there or had been used or lit up or flicked or touched. The building's filtration system was too good to allow dust, but there was a clammy film of something, maybe plastic off-gassing, when Case spun the desk chair and shoved Gwin into it. The thermos and snack clattered onto the desk next. Case looked around, hoping to find something that could work as mugs.

"I saw you dead. I saw you dead. I saw you..."

"No, you didn't," Case said mechanically, her eyes covering the room. Dirty gear on the floor and knotted under the bed. A single clean t-shirt spilling out of the otherwise empty drawers. A smear of dried mud, tinted blue, near the light switch. She'd pushed away empty ammunition boxes and battery pack wrappers when she'd set down the thermos, and those had now joined the gear on the floor. The only tidy thing was the bed. The corners were as tight and the pillow was a smooth as the stiffest inspector could wish.

"Do you have mugs?"

"Your head rolled right to my feet. I could have picked it up and tossed it back to you."

"That didn't happen."

"I saw it."

"No, you didn't. You couldn't have. Mugs, Gwin. Focus."

"...!..Ican'tfocusbecauseallthatIthinkisallthatIthinkis...!..."

She hadn't been prepared for the screaming. He pressed his palms hard enough into his eyes that it must've hurt, and she didn't like the way his nails were curling into his filthy hair. If he dragged his hands down his face... "Gwin!" For the second time that night she was dragging his hands away from doing damage. "I'm not dead, you didn't see anything, we're okay."

"I saw your head!" he screamed in her face. His pupils had eaten all the blue from his eyes.

"My helmet!" she screamed back, then caught herself. She lowered her voice. "You saw my helmet. That's what it had to be." She tried to sound logical, but she doubted she was fooling anyone. "I'm not dead. Nothing like that could have happened."

Gwin didn't seem to hear her, but at least he stopped screaming. For a moment. "I tried to reach it but then something went wrong. Everything went wrong. It exploded. Everything exploded! Everything! And I can't stopcan'tstopcan'tstopseeinghowmuchbluetherewasonthesand..." Gwin pushed her away and jumped to his feet. He lunged wildly for the door.

Case blocked him. She didn't dare let him do whatever he wanted right then. It would be bad, and, worse, if he got out he was on his own, because she knew she didn't have the will to chase him anymore.

She had been too rough. He flipped over the chair and landed in a heap, head smacking against the edge of the bed. When she leaned down to help him up, he gave a whimper and rolled under his desk. When she crouched and reached to touch him, he curled into a tight ball and screamed in a way that wasn't quite human.

It took hours to coax him out, to strip him of the worst of his filth and slap fairly clean sweats on him, to settle him in the narrow, chilly bed. They never drank the coffee, much less ate the trail mix. Gwin didn't stop muttering even when he fell asleep, not even when Case gave up and lay down close to him.

* * *

**a/n: In retrospect, this should be the second part of last chapter. Oh well, the points don't matter.**

**Next up: Frye is drinking something worse than old coffee.**


	7. Warning Label

**a/n: Frye is reassessing his life choices in the parking lot. They suck, mostly. Or, to use other words, "..."**

**Hard swears. Less editing than usual, sorry not sorry.**

**All the good things belong to Monolith Soft, but Case is mine.**

* * *

This must be what rock bottom felt like. Alone, on a freezing night, at the edge of a parking lot, drinking ... Frye took a careful swig to make sure he wasn't delusion. Yup, it was exactly what he thought it was. He shuddered. Vanilla-flavored vodka.

For a second, he forgot the cold as rage filled him. He didn't deserve any of this. Okay, maybe the alone part was justified; after all, he'd been happy to ditch the other parking lot bums when the warmth of the Repenta beckoned. If they'd been smart enough to find other hidey-holes, he couldn't complain. If he weren't so personally pissed off, he'd ping one or another of them and join them, wherever the hell they'd crawled off to. So being alone was justified. But being outside, drinking this crap?

He sighed and resigned himself to another cupcake-infused mouthful. Half an hour ago, he'd been damn grateful when a teammate had chucked a flask at him while he was being hustled out of the bar by an over-sized alien bouncer. He had been sure his pipeline from official sources would be shut off for the night, and he had been right. So he should be damn happy that Veena had his back. But after the first swallow he'd revised his opinion of Veena and her drinking habits, and that hadn't changed much as the bottle got lighter.

Besides, on a frigid night like tonight, you wanted more smoke in your liquor. Some whiskey would be nice. Or bourbon. Or both, he wasn't above going halvsies. Instead he was drinking something that needed every bit of chill to cover how close it was to alcoholic frosting. He puffed out a breathy cloud, half expecting it to come out as powdered sugar. Aw, hell, he still was glad Veena had passed him her bottle, because at least the taste distracted from, as well as added to, his misery. His lonely, lonely misery.

Through the darkness he noticed somebody approaching. If it was someone like Irina coming to check on him, they could piss right off. Couldn't they just leave him to wallow in his misery? That was the only thing keeping him warm right now. He quickly slugged down some vodka and hoped that maybe a fight was about to start. Then he took another fast swig because there was 100% no chance of a fight starting.

"Phog, you make me even colder, just looking at you," Frye barked with exasperation. "Shorts?! On a night like tonight? You have got to be kidding me."

"..." His brother dug the toe of his boot into the pavement, measuring the solidity of the asphalt.

"I'm glad you dropped by and said hello and all, but you better scoot inside. Maybe order steamed milk for a change. Go crazy."

Phog shook his floof of blond hair and moved a little closer to Frye, still studying the ground.

"So you heard about the fight, huh? Don't worry about it. It's just a thing that happens."

Phog kicked a few fragments of pavement with heightened interest, started to crouch, hesitated, then stood up very straight.

Frye sighed, bent to scoop up some grit, and handed it to Phog. "Buddy, I don't mind if you do your thing." He watched his brother poke at the bits of concrete in his palm. Phog's intensity was soothing, but Frye wasn't fooled. He knew the kid was listening to everything he said.

He might as well let it all loose. "You know what gets me? Two things. First, I'm out here, that I get. Part of the deal. The manager gives a nod, I start a fight, we all get booted, she doesn't know my name for a week, rinse, repeat. But tonight? Arya's pissed for real. Why? Because I did stuff for the wrong reasons. Not because she said to, but because I wanted to shove Evan's teeth down his throat. Doesn't matter that it was what she wanted in the first place, noooooo, that's not good enough. I gotta be on a leash 24/sev, even when I'm off it. To hell with her."

Frye leaned closer to his brother and continued in a strangled growl. "But that's nothing. She can be pissed if she wants to, fine, go for it,lady. But what really gets me is what Case did. She picked that jerk up and carried him off and if I know her she's cooing and weeping over his owies right now. I've seen it happen over and over, and trust me: she'll get wrecked as a result, just like all the rest.

"Something about those squeaky clean boys makes people think they couldn't hurt a fly and then sure enough they go and hurt people real bad. They should come with a fucking warning label." Frye twisted his face so his ragged scar was impossible to ignore. His smile was fierce and bitter. "Like me. People take a look at me and they know stuff is gonna get wrecked."

"..."

"Aw, you're okay. You look harmless but you're the surprise at the bottom of a box of cereal. Some glow in the dark plastic crap. Besides, I'm kind of your extended warning label. Christoph brothers, good for blowing stuff up." Frye stared into the sky, blinking from the cold. "Just, those kind of guys hurt people like Case bad, and I can't stand it. You know she got absolutely broken over the last dude like that, right? Bounced from BLADE, the works. Guys like that do it all the time and walk away like nothing happened."

"..."

"Okay, true, something happened to that guy worse than being bounced, and aren't we all glad. But the point stands. Guys like Evans walk away just fine, no matter how much damage they do. Well, this time, he got damaged first. Call it payment in advance." Frye took a victory swig. He felt no consolation at all.

Phog slipped the concrete chunks into one pocket and fished out a bleating comm device from another. He swiped it, then smiled. "Let's get curry," he said quietly.

"That Wrothian place? Nah, no thanks. No liquor license. They don't even have beer."

Phog nodded in agreement. "So we know you aren't banned."

"Ugh."

"I have a coupon for 2 bubble teas there." Phog waved the comm device at his brother.

"You hate bubble tea. Those little balls, remember? You sound like a cat when you try to drink it." Frye demonstrated. "Ackkkawkkakkkkkagghhakkkkk."

"..."

"Okay, fine, I'll ask them to leave them out. Let's go." He strode out of the parking lot, his brother tagging at his heels. At the edge, Frye turned and gave a magnificent two-handed, two-fingered salute to the security cameras of the Repenta diner.

Inside, Arya watched the gritty b/w security screen and smiled. Then she put her own comm device away and returned to her other duties.

* * *

**a/n: It turns out I cannot spell "label" for my life. Wrong, every time. Thank you, spell check. Frye is the best character ever. I have said that about most characters, but I mean it this time. His final heart to heart kills me. _"...Just like I do pretty much every day of my life."_**

**Case getting wrecked? I keep hinting at it (most recently in the April Fools Thing).**

**Next up: It's a little bit morning, and boy is Irina ever pissed! (Oh that's gonna be fun to write.)**


	8. Wake Up Call

**a/n: Irina is waiting for her whole team to show up. Guess who is late?**

**Swears, add more if you want.**

**All the good things belong to Monolith Soft, except my baby Case.**

* * *

Irina was doing her best not to prowl back and forth with impatience. 0700 had come and gone and if there had been a shadow of her missing teammate, her sharp grey eyes had missed it. This mission had taken more effort than it should have, requiring repeated contact and confirmation to make today happen. The task itself wasn't worth all those texts she'd shot at him; the whole thing was really a throw-away excuse to get eyes on Evans to see what his current problem was. And now he had blown her off, again. She measured her patience carefully, then shrugged. She'd waited long enough. A quick swipe of her contact list and she engaged his number.

"Hello?" A pale face swam in darkness, peering worriedly at her. The wrong face.

"What you doing, answering Gwin's ... never mind." Irina rolled her eyes slightly. "Where's Evans?"

"He's asleep." Case's whisper held a snap. "Hang on."

"I do not have time for..." Irina began, only to stare dumbstruck at her screen. The little radical element had muted her. Muted but not closed the connection. She watched as the view swept wildly around a small room (she'd guess Gwin's), catching the odd glimpse of shoulder or knee as Case tried simultaneously to juggle the device and pull on some gear.

After a few more seconds of bumping shots, the screen flared with light. It was clear Case had moved to the barracks hallway. Irina counted to five, reminded herself that Case had done good by NLA a couple times, reminded herself that maybe she owed Case a little, then tried to explain using small words. "Look, Case, he's supposed to have his butt down here..."

"He's not coming."

"Case..."

"He's still asleep," Case repeated angrily. "What the fuck have you been doing to him?"

Now Irina really did goggle at the comm device in surprise. "What have **I** been doing? What have **you **been ... no, I really don't want to know. Go back in there and tell him that we're supposed to team today. He knows that."

The comm device view bounced again as Case shook her head violently. "No. He's a wreck."

"Look, Case, I heard about the fight last night. The last thing he needs to do is hide away from consequences. If he comes down and rolls with it, it'll be a lot easier for him."

It was as if Case wasn't listening. "He hasn't been sleeping. He stinks. His pockets are stuffed with stale energy bars."

Irina was almost out of patience. "Boo hoo, he only had old snacks."

"If they've gone stale, that means he hasn't been eating them. They last a while so it means he hasn't eaten them for weeks. He always eats them. There was a peanut butter one with just one bite taken out of it and then ... he loves that kind."

A thing that Irina had been ignoring finally refused to be ignored. She paused a moment to let Case continue her accusations, but Case was only staring intently at her through the screen. Irina said slowly, "Yeah, I know. I've been trying to talk to him about that, but he's been dodging me." She had an inspiration. "Do you want to fill in today? We could talk about whatever's going on."

Case rejected her offer immediately. "I got other things to handle."

Typical Headcase, thought Irina. Not willing to accept a helping hand unless you punched her in the face with it first. Irina prepared to argue the point when Case rattled off her plans. "I'm gonna get him clean and fed and make sure he rests some more. I gotta get something covered quick, just to check in, but the rest of the day I'll make sure he's okay. Maybe do some laundry."

Somebody, one of the rest of her team, was shouting about tide charts and shore access, but Irina ignored it. "Look, we'll be down by the beach just outside the East Gate, clearing low-level forfexes. Easy mission. If you guys are up for it, come join us later. Both of you."

Case shook her head "no", steady but gently this time.

More shouting, pointed, was pulling Irina back towards what she needed to accomplish today. "I gotta go. I'll check in when I get back, okay? You got this, right?" Please, tell me you got this, thought Irina.

"I got this," Case echoed.

"Until then." Thank god, this mission wasn't going to take all day, and Irina could check on those two babies at dinner time. She'd find out what the hell was up with Gwin, and maybe make sure that Case was okay too.

* * *

**a/n: Case is not a heroic Cross but she tries hard. Shout out to Squad Dad Draco for making Irina's voice so much kinder and better.**

**Fun fact: This whole story was inspired by a snippet of dialogue I wrote, just fooling around, about Gwin not eating an energy bar. Then I wondered: why? What had happened to Gwin? Why did Case feel guilty? And here we are, with 3 more chapters to go.**

**Next up: Things will be explained, in the most self-indulgent way possible. Why, yes, we will be visiting Lila and her station, why do you ask? All OCs, all the time!**


	9. OG Liar

**a/n: Meanwhile, at the West Gate Skell Refueling Station, Lila the OG OC is trying to look professional. Too bad Case shows up.**

**Swears, alcohol, and whatever Lila's problem is. Feel free to add more swears for Gino.**

**All the good things belong to Monolith Soft, which means they are to blame for NOTHING in this piece.**

* * *

The hand-off from night to day crew had happened as smoothly as it ever had, which left Lila feeling pretty grateful. Today she needed fewer problems rather than more, since she was about to abandon her employees for most of the morning.

She'd already left them on their own for a few minutes in order to slap on what passed for her most professional outfit: mismatched bits of dress uniform, stripped of insignia and braid, along with dark hose and those kicky little heels that she remembered so well from life on the ECP 02 White Whale. She hoped it would pass muster for one final meeting with Sakuraba Industries. With luck, this would complete all the details regarding the closure of the Sakuraba Auxiliary Skell Refueling Station that she'd helped build after the crash on Mira.

She had known that closing the station would be tricky. She'd been the civilian manager of a skell refueling station officially owned by Sakuraba but located within the Administrative Hangar and selling fuel provided directly by the Earth Colonization Project. If that soup of ownership wasn't confusing enough, she'd also funded several facility improvements (mostly fire suppression systems) out of her own pocket, improvements that were now being used by the official BLADE skell repair team (sometimes called the Mech mechs, but only sometimes, because to be honest that nickname wasn't sticking).

It was going to be worth it, she reminded herself. It would be worth it to have no more ties to any of them. She wouldn't have to smile when she felt like screaming. She wouldn't have to agree when it would be so much better for her soul to refuse. She wasn't thinking of Sakuraba; overall, they had been fair employers. The problem was the other things she had done for … people. Watching customers, eavesdropping, encouraging the vilest of comments, and reporting back. She'd become a person she didn't like in order to cultivate a clientele that were of interest to whoever might be interested. Even after her cover was blown (literally: there had been explosions), she'd still gotten pressure to continue doing more of the same. It didn't seem to matter that everyone in NLA knew she was as false as Nopon generosity. And she had continued, just as they'd asked. Well, why not? She'd done this kind of thing on Earth, she'd done it on the evacuation ship, and she'd done it on Mira.

But last spring she'd realized she couldn't keep doing what other people asked of her. It all hurt too much. She was done with cozying up to loathsome characters because the ECP needed eyes on them. She was done pretending that she had no loyalty or love for the really good people that surrounded her because they weren't her desired targets. She was done hiring every broken straggler and letting them limp through a station job while BLADE figured out what to do with them.

Lila shook her head. That last part hadn't been so bad. Some people hadn't been salvageable, but she was proud of the ones she had helped. She should probably include herself in their numbers.

"Check it out, bigwig incoming," shouted Gino as she approached her two techs to review the workload ahead. "You gonna give the stuffed shirts a run for their money!"

She tugged the russet jacket, wishing it covered her full torso. Then she tugged the navy skirt, wishing it approached her knees. Then she gave up on pointless wishes and focused on the comm device in her hand and the careful lists flickering on the screen. One more run-through with Gino, just to reassure herself that this morning's lack of problems would continue.

"I'm gonna be up there most of the day," she said, waving beyond the station, apparently vaguely but dead accurately in the direction of the Industrialist's tower.

"You sure you good to get there on your own? I mean, without freaking out and barfing and all the rest of your thing?" Gino asked with a grin plus a few sound effects. Gino rather enjoyed describing Lila's worst agoraphobic reactions in glorious detail.

"I have managed it before, and I will manage it again." When Gino snorted, Lila continued. "The maintenance tunnels in the city walls will take you from here to Administrative Alley, if you have time and a schematic. Which I do. I'm going to leave early..."

"..like an hour early..." Gino sniped cheerfully.

"Early," she repeated, "so you've got no backup starting now. If it gets too hairy, post a temp job on the mission board."

"We need more hands. I keep telling you that."

"And I've heard you, but that's not a thing that's getting fixed today. Ricky-Bobby, you stick with pre-mixed refueling only. No specials today." She smiled up at Ricky-Bobby's broad and worried face. "I warned the regulars not to expect it, and most switched appointments for tomorrow or acknowledged that just this once…" She looked narrowly at Gino, who was now waving frantically at someone behind her.

Case was walking straight towards them, determination written on her pale face. One of the ones they'd saved, or at least that was true a few months ago. Lila noted yesterday's outfit on their former temporary teammate, her uncombed hair, the marks on her neck that a hasty application of NuSkin spray didn't quite hide. The problems Lila didn't need had arrived.

Gino didn't notice a thing. He was enthusiastic with his greeting. "Case, baby, do we need your help today! Grab a coverall and save our butts for old times sake, 'cuz this bitch here has gotten too good to sling fuel."

Lila had only raised her eyebrows in greeting. Ricky started his good-natured hello, but Case cut him off. "I need your help." Clear who she meant, since she hadn't looked at either man.

Lila's voice was neutral. "Sure. Name it."

"I need you to teach me how to lie."

Maybe Gino gasped or Ricky protested, but Lila wasn't interested. She took one deep, slow breath, worked her jaw to get it a little looser, then twisted her neck until there was a slight crack. Her lips were still tight when she spoke. "Just open your mouth and let the words fall out like toads."

"Okay, Ricky-Bobby, man, time to jump because I do NOT want to be called as a witness." Gino hustled his confused sidekick off to an outer edge of the station.

Lila glared at Case, silently daring her to explain. But the red-head looked almost hurt by Lila's anger. "I should have known you wouldn't help." Case turned and walked quickly away, almost running, past Gino and Ricky, beyond the safe cover of the West Gate Station, into the larger Industrial District.

Lila watched her go for one heartbeat, then sprinted after Case. On the way, she bounced off Gino, shoving her comm device into his fumbling hands, then launched herself out into the world beyond the stations's overhang. Crossing that line was like crossing a wall of knives, except the wall was the first of an endless series of walls. The deafening sounds and the destruction of open air almost flung her backwards, but Lila reminded herself who she was doing this for.

"For whom," whispered a demon, interrupting its litany of all her past and future failings. The voice sounded a little like H.B., but Lila found no humor in this. Instead, she thought about Case. If she could remember her target, fix it very clearly in her mind, maybe, just maybe, she could reach Case. Mims had a built-in orientation system that doubled as a weak homing device. Even the worst of her agoraphobia couldn't deactivate it. The technique worked for locations, not people, certainly not moving people, but Lila didn't have any better ideas. In a few more seconds she knew she wouldn't have any ideas at all.

Reality surrounding Lila thickened and clung, slowing her until she couldn't move any further. A soft wave, not quite as evil as the rest of the existence, was carrying her sideways. Lila scrabbled with her feet but she was clearly moving in the wrong direction, roughly towards the station. She flung out a hand in protest and hit sheet metal. The chaotic whirl shrunk, and she pressed her face against the solid wall, risking opening her eyes a fraction. She recognized the red corrugated steel of the Axiom shipping container that stood halfway between her station's edge and the main throughway out of the District.

"Stay put. Gino will get you back safe," muttered a voice slightly above her ear. Case's voice. Then the soft presence moved away.

Lila didn't have breath for swearing. She couldn't even lift a hand to wipe the drool from her mouth. The best she could do was peel herself off the container wall and arch into shuddering madness, hoping the homing device would kick in again. As she fell, she twisted her body. She felt her knees slam into the tarmac, then her palms. Grit embedded into her flesh. She crawled desperately, trying to keep the weight of disaster from pressing her flat. The demon voice paused to chide her about tearing her stockings, which was just enough to crush her completely.

The soft presence was back, scooping her up under the shoulders and dragging her into safety. Lila knew that she was back under the station overhang when the air stopped pretending to be lava. Gino sounded very far away, but her eyes registered that they were standing right in front of him.

"Tell … Sakuraba … I'm gonna … be … late," she gasped.

"Lila, you need…" he was whispering, or maybe shouting. " … six ways … because …"

Lila had enough sense to clutch Case's arm in a death grip. If she had to chase that girl a third time, she'd probably die in the process. "Office," she managed, biting off any other words in the effort to keep from spewing all over the deck.

Case didn't so much set as fling Lila into the chair behind the desk. The office chair rocked a little; it would have tipped over for anyone taller than Lila. "Hang on!" coughed Lila hoarsely before Case could escape. She rummaged clumsily in a desk drawer and pulled out a bottle and glass, rattling them a little less than the blades on a transport hover-plane. She half slumped over the desk in the effort to place them upright. "Little help?" When Case hesitated, Lila pulled herself upright, gripping the edge of the desk with her fingernails, and tried to keep her eyes focused. "If I pour it, you're gonna watch me lap it up off the desktop like a dog." To Case's continued silence, Lila added with resignation, "I've done it before."

Lila's eyelids were flickering wildly by the time Case sat gingerly in the opposite chair. When Lila heard the bottle being opened, she relaxed her face into her hands, elbows heavy on the desk. She kept her fingers loose enough to peek at Case. The girl poured out a worthy quantity of yellow liquor, added another slosh, looked at Lila, and filled the glass right to the rim. Then she slid it carefully across the desk.

Lila kept her hands up a moment longer. She needed the cover to assess Case, because Lila wasn't in any condition to hide her own expression. When Case made no move to leave the office, Lila settled into her chair, slowly relaxing. She smoothed her hair with a sigh and tried once again to tug her tunic lower. She reached for the glass, waited for an errant tremble to pass, then lifted it with excruciating care and both hands to take the first swallow. Another deep breath, another swallow. Case sat quietly across from her, waiting to see if Lila needed anything else. She didn't look angry or determined, only a little nervous. Nervous was good.

It was still early, but Lila thought it had worked. Best way to get someone to obey you is to ask them to do you a solid first. "Tell me about it."

* * *

**a/n: Yes, I have been reading Raymond Chandler, why do you ask? I'm sometimes not sure if I like Lila.**

**Lila's "agoraphobia" has shown up in Lily & the BLADE/2/Crawl, Fried Chicken, and Inktober 2018/8/Star. Helping the hopeless in "Emotional Contact". The break up with Sakuraba (and other people), not so much.**

**Next up: Case starts to explain. This may take a while because there will be battle scenes. Do I mean puge or pugilith?**


	10. Liar Duet

**Drunkard 10 Liar Duet**

**a/n: Case isn't quite ready to sing. **

**All the good things belong to Monolith Soft, which means they are free from blame here. Edited because I CAN'T SPELL SYLVALUM.**

* * *

"Tell me about it."

Case stared across at Lila. There was no way she was going to explain the details to anyone, not even to her boss. Former boss. Untrustworthy, unstable, skating by on connections and the city's lack of better options. So, basically, a more successful version of Case. The only sound in the room was a brittle ticking coming from a medallion on the wall. Case glanced at it, seeking a distraction. One of the pointers on its surface twitched. She turned away quickly.

Case could neither look at Lila nor let her eyes stray far from the silent woman. She shrugged helplessly. "There's nothing that needs explaining. I understand if you can't help." When Lila didn't reply, the silence returned, broken only by the ticking. Case glanced around. She shrugged. She sighed. "I din't mean anything by what I said out there. I just need help to, ah, convince someone that they got something wrong." Case's words speeded up. "It isn't even lying. I'm only telling the truth, and I don't even care what they decide. But they gotta stop thinking what they've been thinking." She shut her mouth. Had any of that made sense? Case wasn't sure.

Lila rubbed her face tiredly. "This has to do with Evans. Might as well say it, Case."

"No," Case said too quickly. She shrugged again. "It's just a thing I need help with."

"You dragged him off last night. I don't know him as a customer much, but he seemed way off. Alexa _does_ know him, and she was worried. You and him seemed pretty friendly during the summer and you haven't changed your shirt today. Evans." Lila didn't look tired anymore.

Case frowned miserably. "So what?"

"When did you last team with him?"

Case tried to pretend she had to think about it. "A couple weeks, maybe." She ducked her head, but after a moment her eyes returned to Lila.

Lila was not smiling. "Oh, honestly, Case. Give it up. You came to me for help, and I want to do it, even if you really suck at asking. But you suck at lying worse."

"You'd be surprised," Case said, raising her chin slightly.

"And you'd be surprised how NOT surprised I'd be." Lila shot a pointed grin at her, and then the grin snapped out of existence. "For example, your neck."

Case touched her throat quickly. "I thought no one would notice."

"Those marks are going to take professional care. At least we don't bruise anymore. Who did it?"

"No one. Myself. It was an accident. He didn't mean anything by it." Case tried to stop talking, but Lila kept being silent and the only thing that Case could do was keep speaking. "He was holding me too tight, so I peeled him off. Nothing bad."

"Nice kind of an accident. If he's 'accidentally' hurting people, BLADE needs to step in."

"I told you. I did it to myself." Case gestured, hooking her fingers toward her neck. It didn't seem to reassure Lila in the slightest.

More silence, more ticking.

Case noticed Lila's right hand feinting towards the desk drawer that held the bottle, but Lila pulled it back quickly. She played with the empty glass instead, spinning it slowly in looping circles on the desktop. Case wished Lila would go ahead and pour herself another shot, maybe two. From Case's experience during all the times they closed the station, Lila tended to ignore people's failings better after a few drinks.

The twirling stopped. "Look, Case, I am done with hints and whispers, but so help me, I will make it my life's mission to find out every little thing about what is going wrong with Gwin Evans. I'll start with asking my customers, move on to his division, aim towards his leader, what's her name?" She flicked a questioning glance at Case.

Case was pretty sure Lila knew exactly who Gwin's team leader was. She blinked at Lila.

"I'll ask the Commander." Lila looked sad for one fleeting moment, then her face grew firm. Her eyes drilled into Case. "I'll ask Eleanora."

There was no good answer to that. It was all Case could do to beg her not to. So she just sat and took it, sucking up the silence around them. Then Lila sighed and the spell was broken.

xcxcxcxcxcxcxcxcxcxcxcxcxcx

Lila wanted to slap herself. She deserved it. A minute ago she had Case perfectly positioned, she was sure of it, and then Lila had let herself start talking. Which led to her blurting out a threat long before it was ever necessary. Worse, it was such an obviously false threat, even if Case was momentarily too scared to see it, because there was no way Lila was saying boo to Eleonora for the foreseeable future. That's what the move to a new station and today's abandoned meeting were all about: not talking to people like Eleonora. Or the Commander. Lila sighed unevenly and was careful not to reach for the bottle again. She ran a finger inside the lip of the empty glass, catching a hint of moisture, then licked her finger clean. Being out of the game was no excuse for being bad at it.

"I could pour you another," Case said with too much eagerness.

"The one you poured was generous. Thanks for doing that. Sorry you had to watch me drink it like a baby."

"Maybe you should get a sippy cup, like the littlepon have." Case cracked a grin that was lopsided with fear.

Lila snorted a half-laugh. "Take it up with L. Maybe you can make some credits on the idea. Way too many people would be into that. Me, Frye, ..." Case flinched and looked away.

Lila sighed yet again and leaned back more comfortably in her chair.

"Let's try it another way first. Maybe I don't even need to ask." Lila kept her voice soft and almost dreamy. She gazed into the middle distance, only flicking the occasional look at Case as she went on. "Let's see. From the shape Evans was in, he's been going off the rails for a while. On the Whale, it would have taken a minimum of two weeks to get that broken, probably closer to a month. On Mira? Well, BLADEs get scuffed a little faster, but Evan struck me as pretty steady." Lila checked on Case quickly. Much less rigid now, and maybe less afraid. The girl had almost nodded in agreement with the last statement. Interesting, thought Lila, and useful.

"So, given what a decent BLADE he is," said Lila, scattering a little more praise to calm Case before the next bit, "I'll still guess this has been going on for at least three weeks. But you weren't around three weeks ago. You were finishing a long stay in the Mimeosome Maintenance Center." Lila closed her eyes and fluttered a palm. "Don't worry, I'm not stalking you. I happened to call you up in the hopes you'd take pity on us and fill in one evening. The Center said something about you still being in for a few more days. The operative word being 'still'. I got a little curious, only enough to hear you'd be okay and had been there several days already. Which brings us to the original time frame: four weeks."

Lila rocked forward and started playing with the glass again, careful not to look at Case. "What happened four weeks ago to put you in the MMC?"

"I got injured. I'm fine now," Case said in a small voice, swallowing several times.

"Where? Noctilum?" Lila thought it wasn't a bad guess, considering the work Reclaimers had been doing there.

Case shook her head and said in a smaller voice, "Sylvalum."

"Ah. Sylvalum." Now it was Lila's turn to swallow hard. She repeated it slowly. "Four weeks ago in Sylvalum. Don't tell me you were part of that whole ..." Lila's voice drifted off.

"Yeah."

Lila tried to keep the words casual. "I heard everyone was jumping into that fight. A whole wave of enemy. I think the ECP fixed the numbers at over 400, closer to 500. How much of it did you see?"

"We were the ones that spotted them. Or they spotted us."

Lila shook her head. She didn't like what she was thinking, but she had to make sure. "Were you teaming with Evans, part of a mixed group or something?"

"No. Pure Reclaimer."

"Anyone I know?"

"Probably not. Just some Center kids." Case did that shrug that she thought made her look smaller.

"Ah." Lila liked her thoughts even less, especially since the word "expendable" was rearing its ugly head. She'd keep that one to herself. "Who was your team leader?"

"I was."

Lila looked at Case with surprise. It didn't change her hunch, made it worse actually, but still it made her happy to hear it.

"You're surprised. You think it was a bad idea." Case's face was hardening.

"I'm surprised it's taken them this long to trust you. You're good." Lila considered the setup out loud, leaving out the one ugly word. "An away mission for a rookie leader and three new citizens."

"No one calls u- ... them that."

Lila chose to ignore Case's hesitation. "I'm trying to change it. What was the mission?" No reply. This time, Lila was going to wait it out if it required stapling her lips shut. She'd count the seconds until her clock batteries ran out, until her mim ran out of juice, until Mira started to explain itself, until...

Case shifted suddenly. Lila was afraid she was going to stand up and go, but she had adjusted her posture and was now sitting straight in a way that any service board would approve of. Her eyes were closed but her head was up, her fingers straight along her legs, her feet flat and steady. I'm no officer, thought Lila, but if this helps her, I can play along. "Please explain the details of the mission," she said smartly.

This time she didn't have to wait. Case unloaded it all.

* * *

**a/n: Nope. Got nothing. Wait. Lila has personal experience with people becoming unhinged on the Whale, see Twitchy Tales of the Whale/3/Broken.**

**Next up: I've run out of stalling tactics. Will we finally FINALLY get to the deets?**


	11. Half Truths

**a/n: Case starts the story of the mission in Sylvalum.**

**Gentle swears, giant sand worms, too many OCs.**

**All the glorious landscapes belong to Monolith Soft, but these chucklehead OCs are mine.**

* * *

_**The objective of the mission was to inspect, retrieve and replace Frontier Nav probe 412. As much corrupted data was to be recovered before replacement, with emphasis on keeping the probe as intact as possible.**_

FN412 was right on the upper edge of the Great Sand Sea, where the rib-cage of rock formations ended and the last stretch of spore desert opened up with nothing solid between you and the enemy's smoke in Cauldros. In New Los Angeles, they'd told Case that the probe had been wonky for a day and a half. Pathfinders could have fixed it in 20 minutes flat, and shredded the probe in the process. BLADE wanted to see what was going wrong, and for that they needed all the parts. That's why they'd tapped the Reclaimers instead. She'd be the senior member of the team, with a brand new specialist and skell they could barely spare, plus two extras.

Case hadn't been that far north in a while, since before even she'd been booted from BLADE, and she'd forgotten how clean and soft everything looked in Sylvalum. The probe site was on a broad high dune, covered in delicate white puffs. On a clear day, you could look back to Lake Ciel. The whole team had been enjoying the peaceful surroundings when a giant white sabula worm shot straight out of the sand and arched high overhead, the triangular flanges that framed its mouth flicking in and out. The rookies had yelped and even Case had laughed in surprise, but the creature dove back into the desert floor. Case waited for it to return, but she didn't see it again that trip.

_**Team consisted of four Reclaimers. Case (sniper/knife), team leader. Carlos Jenner (assault/longsword), Hannah Kim (Gatling/shield), Trace Whitson (sniper/javelin). Jenner and Kim had experience in areas 1-3, Whitson area 1. One skell. Mastema, heavy, standard layout with emphasis on ranged and area attacks, tuned for mechanical/gravity attacks.**_

Jenner and Kim were steady if new. Jenner had a chip on his shoulder, but Case had ignored his opening antics, focusing on the Noctilum mission he and Kim had just returned from, and he had calmed down fast. Kim looked so sweet it made Case's teeth ache, but she'd insisted on giving Jenner's rifle a thorough going over for him before they'd left NLA. "Go sharpen your sword of something, baby. This thing is a piece of cake after mine." She'd twinkled over at Case. "Don't get me wrong. I love the Lin Lee Koo Combo. Poof, boom, bang. Us K-pop idols know what works."

Case had swapped out her assault rifle for the mission, on account of Whitson. They were clearly the weakest member of the party, having only done a handful of missions, all close to New Los Angeles, but the team needed them. Trace specialized at data retrieval. Their job would be to pull as much raw data off the probe before the rest of the team touched it. They were shy at first, but once Case had shown that she wanted to know about all her new teammates, they had been eager to discuss the glories of Frontier Nav and their hopes to someday join the Pathfinders. Trace knew they were weak on the ground and had been worried about it, so Case had chosen to mirror their build, at least in ranged gear. She had also chosen them as skell pilot, because you don't have to be good to stay put and blow stuff up effectively when you were riding in a Mastema.

Funny, but the big problem had been names. Case and Trace sounded too much alike, especially when barked over lo-fi helmet mikes. Trace had looked miserable when the team considered the options. No way did they want to go back to another name. Case hadn't liked it either, but she was about to bite the bullet. Deep breath, she'd told herself, you can say it, just throw the word "head" before your name, and problem solved. Jenner had jumped in before either had taken the hit. "Easy-peasy. Boss, Jenner, Kim, Trace." He covered his mouth and mimicked distortion. It worked, if only barely, and Case decided she loved this team.

_**Travel by air for area 1 and ocean, changing to ground in area 4. Weather clear in areas 1 and 4, light rain over ocean. No enemy alerts or engagement. Check in with temp station prior, no reports of activity. Team and station noted lack of presence and response from large and medium mechanical enemy (Xe-dom, Oc-serv) on flight through Sylvalum.**_

That had been weird, although the others hadn't noticed. Couldn't have noticed, really, jammed as they were in the passenger compartment located on the back of the skell. Case was riding up front, in the jump seat next to Trace, keeping up a gentle chatter designed to sooth the rookie. Trace hadn't dropped to ground travel immediately, standard procedure for Sylvalum because anything flying tended to trigger the towering Xe-dom that patrolled the pathways through the dunes. Case hadn't said a thing, because it was better to find out how well the team could handle themselves. But they'd clipped right past one of the big black grinders with no response. Trace had slammed to the ground immediately and hit the accelerator to get the hell out of the way. "It didn't spot us. How did it not spot us?!" they'd wondered squeakily.

Case had wondered as well. She'd also wondered why they'd only seen one. There should have been several on their trip north, but they only encountered that one, right at the land's entrance. She'd asked the BLADEs at the temporary station, but they'd had no clue either. They'd sent in a report the day before, saying the same thing but getting no explanation, and they were starting to get nervous. It was kind of sad that good news on Mira felt like a bad omen. Maybe that was why they were more careful when they reached the probe.

_**Upon arrival at site, Whitson swept site and probe for traps. Both were clear. Case and Jenner scouted immediate area while Kim assisted Whitson with data retrieval process. At 0842, while on northern sweep, Jenner reported enemy movement. Case confirmed and requested assistance immediately.**_

Instead of letting the team hang out, picking flowers and watching Trace whisper to the probe, Case had ordered Jenner to slog north of the site, to the bottom of the dune, while she'd fanned wide to the southwest. She'd reached the crude road formed from the relentless criss-cross of Xe-dom, currently weirdly empty, when she heard Jenner yell. He'd spotted the invasion first; a turn of her head towards Cauldros and a hard glance had clued her in too. It had sparkled like the foam of a metallic tide. There were so many of them, Case didn't bother to try to count. After the first hundred, it doesn't really matter.

They'd called for help. Mayday, pan-pan, SOS, the works. Case had yelled into her radio on general once, then had ordered Trace to jump in the skell and keep calling for help, because Case needed every spare breath. Running up hill the long distance to her team through soft spore sand felt like every slow-motion nightmare Case had ever had.

_**Enemy was too close for safe retreat. Team grouped around the skell and prepared to observe and defend until relief arrived.**_

The enemy was a long way away, and even the slowest of heavy skells could have taken them back to the temporary station at least. ECP could worry about the probe another day, and her team could do a better count of enemy with friends at their back. Case had boots full of spores and the other three in sight when an order had unlocked in her earpiece. "Remain at location and observe. Delay engagement as long as possible." Her spine reacted like somebody had yanked a leash, but she had her expression under control when she reached her team.

She had her expression under control now. Lila didn't need to know that part.

* * *

**an: Yes, yes, in game there isn't a passenger compartment on skells, but COME ON! In my XCX your team doesn't magically follow up mountains by jumping, okay? And wow but the view from FN412 is pretty, if you don't mind GIANT WORMS AND KILLER ROBOTS PHOTOBOMBING YOU (when they aren't gravity bombing you as well).**

**Next up: Bored now. Let's see if Gwin is more coherent. If he isn't, we'll have more Case Explains It All.**


	12. Gwin's Tale, Pt 1, or, Second Breakfast

**Drunkard, Hobo, Liar: Gwin's Tale, part 1, or, Second Breakfast**

**a/n: Gwin was also in Sylvalum four weeks ago. If Case can't bring herself to describe it all, maybe Gwin will.**

**No swears, I think, and not enough editing. Gratuitous Lin and Tatsu hijinks.**

**All the good things belong to Monolith Soft, except Case and Neesae and Case's rookies.**

* * *

Breakfast had been hours ago and Gwin was starting to wonder if maybe he could grab a snack. Today was a brainless, harmless mission, and it was clear that it would take a while. The goal: collecting a bucketload of fuzzy beaporge. The job involved smearing a little grease on their sole skell (Irina's Verus, looking otherwise spotless), setting a trap, and crouching quietly a few meters away. If they kept very still, eventually one of the little raccoon-like critters came out from whatever den they hid in and would start to clean the skell. The cage would snap, Lin would squeal at how cute it was, they'd give it a jab of tranquilizer to keep it quiet until they got back to NLA, rinse, repeat. Most of the job involved patient waiting. He figured he could chew quietly enough not to spook them.

Then an earsplitting shriek hit the radios, piped directly into their helmets or other headgear. It was an incomprehensible babble of screaming distress call, clinical location marker, and strained pleading. It lasted maybe 15 seconds. Silence followed.

Irina ripped her earpiece away from her head and almost flung it at Lin. "ARGH! What the hell was that?!"

"They're done now," said Neesae. She stood up and shook her long legs.

"Awww, you're going to spook them," whined Lin.

"Like Irina didn't already?" Neesae sighed and scanned the spore desert plains beneath them.

Irina picked up her earpiece and dusted it off. "Sorry about losing my cool, Lin. The volume on this thing is wonky." She moved and stood shoulder to shoulder to Neesae. "Spot anything?"

"Nope."

Gwin had gotten up more slowly, because he'd hoped for something more, something less panicked. But the silence had continued, and he finally said in a rush, "I think that was Case. I think we better go check on her."

Irina continued to scan the overlook. "Great. I suppose we better."

"She sounded really worried," Gwin said unnecessarily.

"And you sound a little too eager to go show off your new toy." Irina shrugged and walked toward her skell. "You all stay on foot, because if it's really as bad as she seems to think it is, I don't want to waste time unloading you guys. But I bet it's nothing bigger than a Oc-serv."

"Lotta Xe-dom in that area," Neesae muttered darkly, grabbing her weapons. She started running after Irina's skell as it skimmed down the slope.

Gwin was happy to grab his gear and follow, although he wasn't sure they were up to fighting the towering patrol robots of Sylvalum. Then again, maybe they were. He patted his new rifle, the toy that Irina had dismissed a breath ago, as he snapped it on his back. The full truth was that he kinda did want to put that thing to proper use. It had been a week of quiet missions, and he'd dumped a lot of care and credits into his new gear. The magazine might be smaller than he'd like, but he'd boosted the reload speed until it could pump out as much damage as Lin's Gatling, and its distance rivaled even a sniper rifle. Beaporge trapping had been almost an insult to its possibilities, and he had looked with envy when a Harrier team had flown by them this morning, off to beat up the hulking gorilla-like vigent further up the hill.

He tried not to look eager while he lagged behind Neesae and her ridiculously long strides. She was gonna make it to the bottom before he was halfway. He was used coming in third when she was on the team. At least he would beat Lin and Tatsu.

"Coming though!"

"Friend look out!"

A spray of spores blinded him as Lin shield-surfed down the hill. He managed to see Tatsu clinging to her waist and streaming behind her. Then his foot hit a rock and he rolled the rest of the way down.

Lucky for him, his ears were too full of spores to hear Irina's staticky snort. Neesae hauled him to his feet and thumped him to get most of the dust off him. He stepped to the side to give his nose a good farmer's blow to clear it.

"Ew!" giggled Lin. Tatsu watched in admiration.

"They're back on the skell comms," said Irina sharply over their team link. "Saying there's a wave of enemy, ground types, over a hundred. So, not just an Oc-serv, my bad. Time to go."

They raced toward the path that would lead directly north, and once they'd rounded the overhang they all could see exactly what the distress call had been about. Although he couldn't distinguish the individual enemy, there was a grey tide that didn't belong there. Irina had patched the continued uncertain reports from Case's team into everyone's headsets. It wasn't Case's voice anymore.

"He sounds young," panted Neesae.

"So let's go help that rookie and the Head... and Case," Irina said cooly.

As he pounded after Irina's skell, Gwin tried to digest the bits of information they were hearing. Hundreds of enemies, a mix of human-sized Puge and skell-sized Pugilith. A much smaller number of flying enemies. It sounded like a smaller version of the mechanical mass that had attacked New Los Angeles months ago. Regular bursts of gunfire provided a backdrop to the accounting on the radio.

He heard Lin make a small, distressed noise, but Irina cut in immediately. She sounded confident and a little angry. "They just don't take no for an answer, do they? Lin, you know we've got this. We should be in range in a second."

They arrived just before the other team was completely cut off. Case and two other BLADEs were standing at the pillar of light marking the Frontier Nav site, clustered around a skell that was firing blast after blast into the enemy. They were all fighting hard, the ground team focusing on sweeping the left and right to keep the enemy from passing them while the skell hollowed out the center.

"Lin, you go stand to the left, by the longsword user. Try to open up the center more. Gwin, god help me, stand by Case and do what she tells you. Neesae, we'll ..." She stopped her orders as first one, then a second Xe-dom rose from behind the dunes. The seeming heaps of scrap that had been resting in the sand lifted and reassembled to become the relentless long-armed, gravity-bombing, skell-shredding monsters that they were.

"Neesae. The thing."

Once again, Neesae shot past Gwin, leaping directly on and up the side of Irina's skell, to reach the shoulder of the mech and stand there, one hand holding tightly to the top of the pilot's capsule. Gwin saw her fumble with something in her other hand. Not a weapon, something smaller that she slammed into her thigh. Gwin recognized it as a system stim-pack and winced. Those tensifiers burned like fire, through your whole system. Just as bad, maybe worse, they cost plenty, almost as much as skell salvage tickets. Neesae wasn't going to hold back in this fight.

Irina's skell rose from the ground and headed directly at the closest Xe-dom, Neesae still riding high above them all. She was now holding her longsword straight in front of her. Already, her movements had quickened to a blur. When they came in range of their enemy, Gwin caught Neesae's greeting for their target, almost a taunt shouted between vicious slashes. "Blossom dance, you hunk of junk."

* * *

**a/n: Neesae's greeting was edited for content. Tatsu has so played BotW and told Lin all about Heropon of Hyrule.**

**Next up: Gwin's Tale, Part 2. Still haven't said why he lost it, but we're getting close. Shoot me now, but I have a subtitle.**


	13. Gwin's Tale, Pt 2, or, Headcase

**Gwin's Tale, part 2, or, Headcase**

**a/n: HARM WARNING, KIDS! Gwin remembers Sylvalum, sort of.**

**Swears and inaccurate weapon arts. Also, harm.**

**All the good things belong to Monolith Soft, but not Case and her rookies.**

* * *

Gwin shifted uncomfortably in his bed. His eyes were closed, and he'd probably startle if you shook him, but it didn't quite feel like sleep. His eyes flickered distinctly beneath his eyelids. His thoughts weren't any different than they'd been for the past few weeks, but usually he was alert enough to stop them before they got this far. Now he was trapped in his own body and the end was coming.

Gwin had felt the sands shimmy under his boots with every volley from the stationary skell. The ripple of missiles had singed the air and spread a glowing carpet of fire in the heart of the enemy. Return shots peppered the dune around him, each raising a puff of spores that built into a low mist. It was still easy to find his way to Case. Her gear shone like a copper signal, almost as bright as her hair.

She'd looked upset when he reached her, but she hadn't said anything beyond giving him directions. "Try not to hit the far edge, I'm on 'em. Focus on the front, especially those rolly-balls. And any of the Pugilith mechs that get too close - they're still a danger even if I hit the pilot."

The fighting had been straightforward, even if you considered the numbers. Gwin had done as he was told, blasting the marching Pugilith with his assault riffle, then flipping the front edge of rolling mechanical landmines known as shrads back into the ranks of the Ganglion. It was simple enough that he could spare a glance over at Case. A series of glances, because Gwin had been trying to figure out what she was doing.

Initially it hadn't made sense to him. Case would gesture at the right edge of enemy, first with her knife, then with her sidearm. That seemed all wrong, since no one, but no one, bothered to use either against mechanical enemies. Not like they had any brain to brainjack with the knife, right? And handguns were pretty much useless at a distance. But one silvery Puge, then a second, would stagger out of formation and start racing inward and back, toward the center of the enemy force. Case would then pick the slender robots off with her sniper rifle, wounding but not killing them. A mechanical heartbeat later, the Puges' self-destruct sequences would engage, usually right at the feet of a more massive enemy. Gwin wasn't sure, but it had seemed to him that Case was able to control mechanoids, and maybe not just with her knife arts. Pretty cool. He was gonna have to ask her about it later.

Gwin slowed the memory down, focused on Case's gestures, on the sting of sand, the way the sky had turned as metallic as the enemy. He didn't want to remember the next part. Maybe, if he took his time, something would intervene.

There had been a monotonous rhythm to the fight. Grenade blitz, tornado blade, grenade blitz, ultraslash, grenade blitz. Once upon a time he'd been embarrassed to shout these phrases over and over, even though he knew it was important to inform your team what your actions were so they could respond, but that morning he'd just rattled them off. He'd been proud how fast his assault rifle was cooling down its arts. With each round he had tried to blast the shrag further back, launching them like golf balls. He'd almost wanted to shout "fore"!

Grenade blitz, rising blade, grenade blitz, ultraslash. Click.

He'd cringed with embarrassment at his rookie mistake. He'd gotten off the beat, probably due to checking out Case and all, and his rifle hadn't finished reloading. No biggie. He'd just need to wait one second more before getting back into the flow.

Click.

Oh shit. OH SHIT OH SHIT OH ... He'd gathered whatever focus he had to remember what he'd learned many months ago from a Pathfinder, an expert at weapons, now dead, betrayed, lost ...

Gwin couldn't wake up. Not then, not now.

The memory was flowing at a deadly slow pace now. He had started to clear his magazine but the bolt would not even wiggle. He had made a weak slash with his sword as a Puge almost reached them, then went madly back to slapping, pulling, and squeezing various parts of the weapon.

Case was shouting at him, waving her sniper rifle. The blood was singing in his ears and he could not hear her clearly. But he saw her lips moving and understood two words clearly. "Take. Mine." She was slogging through the spores and haze to give him her rifle. He looked wildly past her, noticing for the first time that more BLADEs had joined them, several skelled-up Harriers cutting right through the enemy flank. He turned to spot Irina's skell just in time to watch one Xe-dom slide apart and crumple into the sand. It gave him no comfort because he had spotted something else.

Sliding down cables as thin as spider webs, a new enemy was joining the battle. Milsaadi assassins, hooded and semi-mechanical and wielding the sharpest melee weapons on Mira. They were dropping behind the Harriers, intent on ambushing him. He'd screamed a warning. The memory of other Milsaadi attacks made him crouch involuntarily. The edge of a weapon had ruffled his hair.

Case hadn't ducked.

He couldn't stop seeing it. The expression on her face even when it wasn't a face anymore. Then just a rolling thing like a toy shrad, bronze instead of black and trailing blue splatters behind it. It stopped almost at his feet. He wanted to kick it with his boot. But only just a little, just enough to roll it over and check if her eyes were still as green as before or whether they were clogged with sand. Mercifully, the wounded Puge had staggered up the dune and had chosen that moment to explode.

He couldn't tell you what happened next. Trust his memory to decide to fade during the recovery and eventual victory. He'd been knocked sideways, as had been the Milsaadi, and he'd lain flat on his side, watching while Case's rookies had swarmed over to them. Their skell had blasted the Milsaadi as it struggled back onto its feet. It was overkill, to be honest, a cannon blast at hand-to-hand distance, also way too late. Gwin was pressed deeper into the sand by the shock wave, blinded by the flash. Or maybe it was from the additional white mist that was kicked up. He blearily saw one of the rookies dragging Case's body into a stasis bag. He would have shouted that there wasn't any point to doing that, but his throat wasn't working right. All those spores, choking everything.

Gwin didn't see as much as feel the crunch of another skell landing on the ridge of the dune, taking the place of Case's team. The biggest rookie, an older guy, had flung the bag as easily as a used rag into the skell's passenger compartment, then climbed in after it. Gwin had managed to roll over on his back to watch them take off, heading straight for Primordia and home. He kept watching until they disappeared into the sky.

He kept watching until the sky became the ceiling of his room.

* * *

**a/n: I tried to delay this as long as I could. Sorry, kids.**

**Next up: Case and Lila need to talk. I may miss a week soon, because of LIFE AND ALL IT ENTAILS.**


	14. Bedtime Stories

**a/n: Case tells bedtime stories to a friend.**

**Swears, but you know Frye doesn't mean anything by it.**

**All the good things belong to Monolith Soft, and Case is now recruitable, currently level 10/assault/knife.**

* * *

Case moved silently, but the door made the standard hissing sound as it closed behind her. She froze, looking anxiously towards the bed where Gwin was stretched out under the covers. Thankfully, his eyes remained shut and his breathing stayed quiet. He seemed unaware of Case. More surprisingly, he seemed unaware of the larger Interceptor squeezed next to him. Frye was lounging against a backrest built from most of the bed's pillows, his legs angled enough to keep his boots off the blanket. He had been staring at his comm device but he swiveled a casual glance at Case.

Case waited to see if Gwin stirred, but he could have been carved out of miranium. "He's still asleep. I'm glad," whispered Case.

"Not exactly 'still'," Frye growled back at her. He looked back at his screen and swiped it absently before tossing it onto the desk. "We had some excitement while you were gone."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, he woke up and I tried to cram a smoothie down his throat. Bad move. It came straight back up." He noticed Case's distress and flapped a hand at her. "Relax. It was as good an excuse as any to chuck him into the shower and wash him off. I even made the bed up all nice and new and tucked him back in. He settled pretty fast afterwards."

"Thanks." She looked around the room, finally noticing the lack of mess. No heaps of used gear, no trash from ammunition, everything up to regulation. She stared inquiringly at Frye.

"Yeah, I had a little time on my hands while he was busy shivering afterwards. Bagged up the laundry, sent it off. On his own bill, mind you, and it'll be a big one, poor bastard. Cleaning the floor and walls was gratis, so you're welcome. What took you so long anyway? You said you'd only be gone for an hour."

"It took longer to get help," Case muttered. "He has an appointment with Solan at the Mim Maintenance Center at 1320."

"Nice. The big man himself. You aren't taking chances."

Case didn't mention that Lila had been the one to make the appointment. She hadn't asked Case. Then she'd made an appointment for Case as well. When Case had protested, the other woman had gestured to her own neck and stared grimly at Case. Oh, that. Case had forgotten about the scratches already.

"So what do you think his deal is?" Frye nodded down towards the unconscious young man.

Case paused. This was a chance to practice what Lila had drilled into her. 1) Start with ignorance. 2) Stick to the truth as much as possible. 3) Give the other person a chance to jump to the wrong idea. 4) When all else fails, blame Mira. She sat carefully at the foot of the bed.

"I'm not sure," she started hesitantly. "We were on a mission a while ago. That bad one, in Sylvalum."

Frye whistled in appreciation. "The one against the army?"

"Yeah. It's sort of a blur, honestly. I got hurt pretty bad, so it's kind of vague until I got back to NLA. He saw me go down. I think he thought I was dead."

"You sure look dead to me," grinned Frye.

"Yes, but he really thinks he saw me ... uh ... " Case drew a finger across her neck.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Case shrugged. "I think that's what's going on, at least. He wasn't exactly coherent last night. I was hoping that some sleep might help but..." She traced the pattern on the blanket. Lila had told her not to bother with eye contact, since Case was bad at it to begin with.

"Naw, probably a good idea to run him by the Center, for sure."

"Uh huh, right. Anyway, I know he saw me go down."

"What was it that got you?"

Case was quietly grateful to be asked details. Talking shop was easy. "Milsaadi. They dropped behind my team. Probably didn't want to go after our skells, so they aimed for a softer target. We were pretty soft, all right, stuck in the middle of reloading. One of them flattened me. After that, I'm not so sure. I kinda remember being helped into a skell, but I don't know what happened to Gwin."

"But you say he thinks your head got, what, lopped off?"

"I think so. It really wasn't easy to understand him, you know?"

"Yeah, same this morning. He was rattling about stuff but it made no sense at all. It just sounded uncomfortable."

Case nodded. "So maybe he kinda freaked out about it and lost his grip?"

"Huh." Frye looked skeptical. "Look, baby girl, he may be weak as wet cardboard, but he's seen some crap. I mean, he saw Earth go, and the Whale, okay?"

"And remembers it," said Case weakly. She concentrated on the bedspread some more.

"Exactly. And he's seen friends from way back get blown up right in his face. So why'd he lose it now?"

"You're right. It doesn't make sense. When I made the appointment, I think they were worried that maybe something else was going on," she added carefully.

"Like what?"

"I don't know." She shrugged again.

Frye was silent for a minute. "Well, no question the Ganglion have pulled some weird stuff on us. Those Definians, for example. They can look like whoever the hell they want. Maybe they got a new trick going."

"Maybe," Case agreed hesitantly.

"In which case, the sooner they open up his noggin and see what's going wrong, the better for all of us. You tell them everything when you take him in, okay? All of it. No good hiding things."

"Okay."

"I mean it. We gotta protect each other, and lying won't do jack."

"Okay. I will." She took an unsteady breath. "I'm more worried he's gonna try it out himself."

"Try what out?"

"Getting himself killed and expecting the Center to fix it."

Frye snorted. "Sounds just like the dumbass thing he would do."

"Yeah, but he could get really hurt. It doesn't work that way for ... uh ... for anyone."

Frye considered this, then he smiled. "No problemo. If the Center doesn't handle it, I will. I promise. I'll learn him not to do anything stupid." His eyes glinted sharply. "I could probably get Irina to help."

Case smiled back at Frye. "Thanks." She looked over at Gwin, still asleep and blissfully unaware of future kindnesses. "And thanks for babysitting." She yawned hugely.

"Rough night?"

"He kept waking up. I didn't get a lot of sleep."

"Why don't you go catch some zz's? I'll get him to the Center on time."

"No, you've done enough. Besides, I don't want him to worry about where I am. I can take over."

Frye rolled onto his hip and placed his hands on Gwin's back. He gave the sleeping BLADE a solid shove, pushing him right up against the wall. Then he rolled back and patted the sliver of new real estate between them. "Hop in. I'll wake you both up in plenty of time."

Case hesitated. "Are you sure?"

"I still got most of this word search to go," said Frye, picking up his comm device. "Some of those indigen names are real buggers to find when they're written backwards."

Case crawled carefully between the two men and settled her head on the edge of a pillow. She was asleep, cuddled against Gwin, before Frye had circled "SIVO".

* * *

**a/n: Word jumble thanks to Squad Dad Draco, because one should never miss an opportunity to tease Frye. This story ate the promised Case/Lila Liar Duet Part 2, but if you need more Lila being a creep/being a good friend, I can drop you as many notes as you'd like. Please, let me tell you ALLLLLLL about Lila.**

**Next up: A little extra, a little later, and possibly the last. Note: It may be delayed due to LIFE AND ALL THAT IT ENTAILS.**


	15. Work Break (Liar)

**Drunkard 16: Work Break (Liar)**

**a/n: Time passes, but not much.**

**All the good things belong to Monolith Soft, excepting Case & Trace.**

* * *

Case was waiting in yet another interchangeable hallway of the Mimeosome Maintenance Center, outside the third examination room for that morning. She had delivered her ward at 0830, and now it was closing in on 1100. Several more exams had been tacked on to the initial brief checkup. Brief checkup, my sainted aunt, she thought. She'd spent most of the time leaning against one dull grey wall or another. The technicians had uniformly promised that they only needed to check "one more thing" before leading their patient to another room with Case trailing behind dutifully. She'd be worried if anyone had shown the slightest urgency, but as it was all she felt was boredom. By now, Case would welcome almost any interaction to keep herself from dozing off. So her smile was broader than average when she saw her former teammate Trace exit an elevator.

Trace hadn't smiled. They had cut across the hallway the moment they'd seen Case wave. On their way they had danced around a group of passing technicians, fluttering apologies on the way, but they didn't slowed down. They stopped toe to toe with Case and spoke in a rush. "Case, hi, hello, I'm glad I saw you. Did they bring you in to ..." Trace hesitated and peered up at Case.

Case smiled gently at the rookie BLADE. No need to give them any reason to be concerned. "No, no one brought me in. I'm waiting for a friend." She waved vaguely behind her at the closed door. "He's ... He needs ... um ..." Her feigned nonchalance failed her.

Trace was too agitated to notice. They had taken a deep breath and were squeaky with intensity. "Because they've been asking us about Sylvalum. They asked me a bunch of questions yesterday and Carlos too and ..."

"Shhh!" Case pulled Trace hurriedly around the corner, away from where she'd been waiting. She darted a glace up and down the quieter corridor. "Okay, go on."

Trace overreacted, switching to a fierce whisper. "They asked me a bunch of stuff at dinner time, and then Carlos this morning, before breakfast, he was away so maybe they couldn't reach him yesterday, and I'm not sure about Kim, I was just about call her." Trace leaned in close enough for Case to count their eyelashes. "They kept asking me if I had told anyone. I told them I didn't. Because I didn't! I didn't tell anyone and..."

"Whoa. Stop. I know." Case leaned back slightly, resting her shoulders against this new wall.

Trace's cheeks grew pink. "You believe me?"

"I believe you, but also, I know. Someone else saw what happened."

"Someone else?! Like a ..." Trace stopped, unable to continue.

Case understood and finished their sentence. "Like not one of us." There was a certain taboo among the Center kids that kept them from saying directly what they had come to understand about the difference between their ranks and the rest of NLA. The Center had emphasized so strongly that it should remain secret that the newest recruits kept it up at all times, even with each other.

"Then that means ... how many of them know about it now? Did the witness tell people? Is it all open? Do you know who it was?!"

Case didn't want to talk about it, but she needed to stop the panic flaring in the rookie BLADE. "Yes, I know, and I don't think he told anyone. So I don't think you should worry."

"Then why was the administration asking all those questions?" No longer in a sweat about a breach of security, Trace was still clearly upset about the fact that they had been suspected.

Case shrugged. Personally, she didn't care what the administration thought. "Probably just wanted to make sure there wasn't anything else."

"But they didn't ask you."

"I was here yesterday." Case popped her head around the corner to check the main corridor. Still quiet, still empty. She hoped that Trace was done.

They weren't. "And they asked you about Sylvalum?"

"It came up." She itched her neck quickly.

Trace turned solicitous. "Is it still bugging you? You were in a long time."

"Me? I'm just fine." Case spoke so calmly, her eyes flat as green glass, that it would have taken a much stronger BLADE than Trace to challenge her.

They both stood in silence for a moment before Trace darted to a new topic. "Carlos thinks it might be a good thing."

"What might be a good thing?" Case's tone didn't encourage the conversation.

Trace gulped. "If people - you know, real people - if they knew about us. He says he's tired of lying. He says that people will treat us fine."

Case couldn't repress a snort. "Sure. Drop me a note if that happens." Case regretted her automatic response when she saw Trace's eyebrows pinch together with worry. She pretended to consider it a moment. "Maybe not. Look, I have reason to be cynical but that doesn't mean I'm right." She plastered a wry smile on her face, trying to add as much hopefulness as she could. "I've seen how people treat their tools in this city, and they treat them pretty good."

Trace nodded. "Some of the other BLADEs treat their skells like members of their family almost."

"Skells, that's for sure. Vehicles, too. Even rifles. People care here. So maybe it'll be okay."

"But you don't think so."

"How am I to know? But I don't think that's an issue yet."

"But you said somebody saw what happened," Trace persisted.

"He saw it, but he doesn't want to believe it. I'm pretty sure the Center is going to help that along."

"Couldn't they just tell him that they were able to fix it?"

"NO!" Case really wasn't doing a good job of controlling herself today. Two nights short on sleep were doing a bigger number on her than she realized. "No," she said more quietly. "We can't let anyone think that they can get themselves hurt like us. I'd rather risk whatever happens than that."

"So we hope this guy forgets and nothing changes? Keep hiding the truth?"

"Something like that." Case twitched her shoulders a fraction. Her eyes wandered towards the main corridor again. Gwin's appointment, or series of appointments, had to be over soon. How many more things could they possibly check? She looked back at Trace.

Trace was looking at the floor now, fiddling madly with the snaps on their uniform. "I don't know. How long can that last? What if they don't treat us okay?" Their voice grew smaller with every word.

Case put a comforting hand on Trace's shoulder. "It'll be different, but I bet Carlos is right. It'll be just fine." She drew the rookie out into the wider, busier hallway. "Hey, Trace, I just thought of something. The New West Station is always hiring. Something to remember. You know, if you ever need a break from BLADE or anything."

* * *

**Life happened and I'm just fine too. This single chapter has fragmented into three parts, so hang on for too much dialogue.**

**Next up: Gwin gets to talk to his teammates.**


	16. Excused Absence (Hobo)

**Excused Absence (Hobo)**

**a/n: Angst is defeated by good teammates and retail therapy as Gwin goes back to work.**

**Wordy, under-edited, I struggle with Irina's voice.**

**All the good things belong to Monolith Soft, and this is all canon, fight me. Which means Neesae has got to be Cross in my next (third) run.**

* * *

"Nice to have you back. Finally." The hesitation before the last word, the acid tone, the raised eyebrows, all cast the first part of Irina's welcome into doubt, but the smile that followed was nothing but genuine. "Did you enjoy your little vacation?" she asked as she slung a duffel full of supplies at him.

"Bed rest isn't a vacation, Irina," Gwin said, catching the heavy load and trying not to stagger. He followed her towards the Interceptors' camp on Division Drive. Their third teammate Neesae was already there, waiting at the feet of Irina's skell. "I was feeling pretty gross at the start. Not fun." He knew that Irina had sat by his bed at least once the first day, even if he couldn't remember it. Case had told him that she had been too upset to come back for another shift, which was too bad. He hadn't been up for much conversation until recently, but it would have been nice to have seen more of Irina.

Irina greeted Neesae with another smile and continued to rib him. "It didn't sound so bad to me last time I swung by. I could hear you guys hooting from the end of the corridor."

"You should have stayed. It was a blast."

"There wasn't space for me. You should have seen it, Nees. They'd carpeted the floor with pizza boxes and tiny plastic hedgehogs."

"Hedgehogs?" asked Neesae.

"I think she means the dice," Gwin tried to explain.

"Dice?" Neesae echoed, no more enlightened. "You guys were gambling?"

Irina started stowing bits of gear in her skell while Gwin held the duffel at the ready. She answered Neesae. "Worse. They were playing some make-believe game."

"Tabletop role-playing game," Gwin corrected her with revealing specificity.

"It had trolls and magic and wands of brutality." Neesae laughed at Irina's description, and the blonde's smile grew sharper. "Wait until you hear this part: somehow Gwin had convinced Frye to play along." Neesae laughed harder.

"His brother was the one who suggested playing," Gwin said defensively. Then he shrugged. "Anyway, we had a pretty good time, even if Case had no idea what we were doing." With the rest of the gear stowed, he folded up the duffel and passed it to Irina as the last item.

"My opinion of Case just went up. Point is, you are now back to normal so let's go to work."

"Awww, you missed me."

"Same as I'd miss a nice pair of boots." Her voice switched from mellow to harsh. "Mostly, I am so sick of picking up randos to fill the team. Every run was a crap shoot for balance, to say nothing of manners. With you back, we can finally get some real work done, even if we need to pick up a fourth."

"Actually," Neesae said with unusual hesitation, "you're still gonna need to hire two BLADEs."

"What?!"

"I have to take a couple days off, starting today."

"Neesae! You can't abandon me like this." Irina flung her arms wide in outrage.

"I'm sorry, but I need to study for finals next week. I put it off while Gwin was out. Now I absolutely need to catch up."

"I thought you were passing everything."

"Passing, sure." Neesae flicked her nose up in disdain. "I could pass in my sleep. What I plan to do is demolish those tests."

"Good for you, Neesae," said Gwin.

"All you need to do is pass, Nees'," Irina disagreed. "It says so right in the description: pass/fail. Don't waste your energy on pride. Get your GED and move on."

"They're talking about starting some advanced classes next round. I want in on that." Neesae's head was still high and her jaw was set. She didn't meet Irina's eyes. "If my math scores are good enough, maybe they'll accept me."

Irina looked her teammate over carefully, then said slowy, "If you get less than 100%, I'm gonna kick your butt."

Neesae's whole body relaxed. "You can't kick that high."

"You better not try and find out. Go. Study." Irina blew out an exaggerated sigh. "Guess Gwin and I will manage somehow, at least for a few days."

"So..." Gwin gulped once before making a suggestion. "We could maybe ask Case and Frye to fill out the team?"

"Those two? Are you kidding me? We aren't here to go on picnics with your little friends." Irina shook her head dismissively and turned to inspect the skell's flight pack.

Gwin continued doggedly. "Hey, I've been thinking about it. I kind of owe it to them to get them some good missions. They took a lot of time off to help me out." He didn't stop talking, even as Irina pulled herself up onto the back of the skell to get a better look at something. "Besides, it would give Case a chance to ask you about leading teams. She's really new to it, and the way she talked about it this week, I know she's invested in doing it right. I bet she'd appreciate the advice, especially from you."

"Oh." Irina looked down at Gwin in surprise. "From me? Really? Uh, of course. I'd be glad to give her some tips."

Neesae chimed in immediately. "Hey, that's a great idea, Irina. You can help Case out and maybe Frye can teach Gwin how not to be pathetic."

"Hey!"

"You could even pack a picnic and snag some relaxation. Weren't you just telling me about that recipe you wanted to try?"

Irina's face shifted from professional to enthusiastic. "Oh yeah! Lin gave me a pretty good recipe for potato salad, but what I really want to do is boost the heat in it a little. Can't decide which spice to use, so I might as well try them all." Her voice became muffled as she stretched a smidge higher to adjust a fuel line, but they could hear her muttering vaguely about will pepper and charged cayenne.

Gwin leaned towards Neesae. "Thanks a lot, Neesae. My digestion's only just gotten back on line."

"Hold that thought," Neesae whispered back. "Hey, Irina, the Northpointe Beach mission is coming up tomorrow. You should grab it."

Irina dropped down to the deck and frowned. "Fat chance. That one gets snapped up fast."

Neesae waved demonstratively at Gwin, much as a game show hostess might showcase a dinner setting or year's supply of Spam. "You've got an invalid on your team who needs easy missions. They've gotta assign it to you."

Irina snorted. "Good point. Gwin! How weak can you look? Wait, no, scratch that. There is no way we're going to the beach while Neesae studies," she said with resolve.

"You'd be doing me a favor. I won't worry that I've let you down. Besides," continued Neesae with a certain knowing smile, "you do realize that Red Hamster has a sale on Ma-non swimwear this week. Buy one get one free. I hear the bikinis have Weather Master XX augments."

"Do not tempt me. I don't need two more swimsuits. Still..." Irina was weakening visibly. "One more wouldn't hurt."

"Real talk, Irina? I know for a fact that Case needs one. That girl's wardrobe is practically all business. You could take her shopping and split the savings."

"Great idea. I can start giving her leadership advice right away. Thanks for the suggestion."

"You're welcome." Neesae sashayed away, giving the speechless Gwin a distinct hip bump as she passed.

* * *

**a/n: Ma-non technology, preventing sand and wedgies since 2056, okay? Anti-grav stats also help lift and separate, just ask Jax from the Tumblr geniuses. And yes, Phog can DM like a madman.**

**Next up: Quieter. Frye. I will manage both.**


	17. Staycation (Drunkard)

**Drunkard 17, Staycation (Drunkard)**

**a/n: The Repenta Bar on a quiet evening. Two weeks have passed.**

**Alcohol, swears, i.e. Frye!**

**All the good things belong to Monolith Soft, and it's not my fault I have to build the interiors.**

* * *

While she was cleaning the countertop during a slow moment at the Repenta Diner, Arya noticed that the bar was glimmering more than usual that evening.

When she'd remodeled the place after the Ganglion attack, she'd replaced the plastic veneer of the counter with real wood from the same species of tree as the great Skybound Coil Tree in Noctilum. The Nopon that had sold it to her had told her that traditional Nopon seers used bowls made from the same material. "Friend see many things in Coil wood. Very good for contemplation." She hadn't cared or even believed him at the time, choosing the furnishings more for their sustainability, durability, and sheer pizzazz. The long wooden countertop had certainly been a nice addition to the bar. The colors in the wood ranged from adobe to cloudy grey, with undertones of emerald, all interspersed with shafts of glinting gold that resembled mica. She'd caught more than one Curator surreptitiously licking the bar in an attempt to determine whether the wood was fossilized or naturally mineral rich.

However, it wasn't long before she'd noticed that the facets in the wood moved slightly if you looked at them too long. It usually happened when she was wiping the bar, clearing away the peanut shells and beer puddles and erasing the endless tide of fingerprints. She'd look down at the strings of small circles that even the cleanest bar cloth left and start to see things. Hints. Promises. Warnings. It had been creepy. For a few days, she'd assigned bar cleanup to her employees, than had reversed course and taken it on as her specific duty. If Mira needed to say something, it should talk directly to the manager.

Tonight the hints were a very soft gold, like summer wheat. They were warm like summer fields too. She probably wouldn't have noticed it on a busier night, but they were only at the starting edge of dinnertime. The Repenta smelled more like fries and less like beer. She swirled her towel slowly, coiling out into wider sweeps with each pass. The sparks were there, but they weren't obvious. No warnings, just a nudge. She swept the cloth impatiently through the marks, a comet racing through a slinky, and looked toward the end of the bar, at the lone drinker making her establishment profitable with every bend of his elbow.

She walked to coffee pot simmering across from him and poured herself a short mug. When she turned, she caught Frye shifting his eyes quickly down to his glass. She took a bitter sip before blurting, "You didn't have to clear off completely."

Frye looked at her as if just noticing her arrival. "You telling me that I'd have been welcome in here earlier? 'Cuz I thought I heard you saying that you didn't want to see my shadow for two weeks."

Arya all but slammed the mug onto the bar. She ignored the flickers flocking to the mug's base. She stood there, glaring at Frye, hands on hips. "You know exactly what I meant. When I tell you to get out, I mean the diner. Not the parking lot. Not the Industrial Sector."

Frye shrugged and drained his glass. He slid it across the bar until it was next to her mug, keeping his hand lightly around it. The flickers started playing tag between his rocks glass and her coffee mug, weaving oval loops around them. Even the most inexperienced bartender could have read the request in his eyes. Hell, his entire body was asking the question.

Arya narrowed her eyes and scowled at him. Then she whipped round and grabbed a bottle of mid-grade whiskey. She filled his squat glass with two fingers of alcohol and re-corked the bottle, a model of efficiency and professionalism. His hand was still on it but he didn't pull it towards himself. The flickers were now a vortex of golden spider webs, thick enough to light the underside of his jaw. His eyes were locked on hers, but they held no hostility.

She uncorked the bottle and poured him another generous shot, then added a smaller one to her own mug. When she had returned the bottle and come back for her mug, Frye was sipping his drink as per usual and the glints had scattered themselves across the bar again.

"So where did you go? Away mission?"

"I had what you'd call a staycation. Hanging with my brother, watching videos, sleeping in. That kind of thing. It started with helping Case for a few days, then I just rolled with it."

"I don't get why you two are so thick."

Frye tilted his head back and laughed. "You know you're to blame, don't ya? I met her at this bar. At this very spot practically." He patted the bartop and an errant flicker bounced under his hand.

The frown had returned to Arya's face, but now it was struggling to cover a smile. "Another fight. You threw his beer in his face, if I remember correctly."

"Nope, that was Case. I just reminded her wanna-be date that guys had been punched since time began and that was gonna continue into the near future, starting with his face, if he didn't shove off."

"Like I said."

"I swear to god, I wasn't the one that was gonna punch him. I've been kinda looking after her ever since. Somebody has to take care of things." He lifted his whiskey in a mock toast. To his surprise, Arya leaned over and clinked her mug against his glass.

A moment later, her voice was purely professional. "I can't keep having you get into it with Gwin."

"Don't worry about that."

"I mean it, Frye."

"No, really, we got it settled. Turns out, it wasn't really his fault he went at Case like that." Frye looked the length of the diner, back towards the booth where Case had been sitting exactly two weeks ago. "The dude was even more messed up than he looked, and that's saying a lot. Took the center a week to fix him."

"He didn't look injured to me, just dirty," said Arya with a total lack of charity.

"Something about a slow leak and spore inhalation and some other junk. When the docs weren't telling him to turn his head and cough, Case and me and a bunch of other Interceptors took turns babysitting him."

"I can't see you as the nursing type."

"Ha, you got me there. Can't even nurse a beer!" Frye drained his glass and carefully set it down. He laid his hands flat on the bar, and the flickers reappeared, shyly nestled between his splayed fingers. "Naw, it comes back to ya. My brother was a sickly kid, so I know the drill about holding somebody's head when they puke. Besides, that's one thing us lushes know: we gotta take care of each other." He pushed himself away and saluted Arya casually. "I'm heading outside for a bit. Gonna go see if my buddies missed me as much as I missed them."

When Arya wiped his fingerprints off the bar, Mira had no message for her.

* * *

**a/n: I did not make up how Frye met Case for this story. It comes from Inktober 2017/12/Shattered. And you thought there wouldn't be a quiz, ha! I****f you need more of "Neesae as part of Irina's team" go see The Great Skell Robbery (bonus: Case and Gwin hijinks).**

**I have wanted a magical bar for ages and now I can die content.**

**next up: Nothing. We're totally done with this story now.**

Narrator's voice: She was not done.


	18. Drunkard, Hobo, Liar, Redshift

**Drunkard, Hobo, Liar 18, Redshift**

**a/n: I have uncomfortable head canon about Maurice, Ma-non are space hobos, and Lila has a lot of issues she is not going to discuss. Plus something extra.**

**Slight swears. Good luck figuring out when these fall in with the other chapters' timeline. If you haven't finished Yelv's quests or certain Null-based stories this may mean less to you, so just hum if you don't know the words.**

**All the good things belong to Monolith Soft, so so so please don't blame them, okay?**

* * *

To: the BLADE known as Case (Reclaimers)  
c/o Mimeosome Maintenance Center

The ECP has reviewed recent events and wishes to commend you for your quick reaction in a difficult situation. Because of your level-headed response, not only was a security breach suppressed but also a fellow BLADE was returned to combat readiness.

Unfortunately, due to safety concerns, there will be no formal note in your files. I am sure you understand and support this decision.

I would personally like to assure you that [redacted-redacted-redacted-redacted-redacted-redacted-redacted-redacted-redacted-redacted-redacted-redacted-redacted-redacted-redacted-redacted-redacted-redacted-redacted-redacted-redacted-redacted-redacted-redacted-redacted-redacted-redacted-redacted-redacted].

Both BLADE and the ECP hope to see you leading many future teams, limited neither to newer recruits nor to your home division.

Sincerely,

Maurice Chausson  
Director General pro tem  
Coalition Government of NLA

The politician put down his pen. Hand-written notes were a personal conceit, considering that this letter would inevitably be revised by others. However, the weight behind physical correspondence was important to him. The security aspects were also not to be ignored. A paper letter couldn't be hacked. It might be replicated but it would never be the original.

He reached for the glass that no longer waited at the corner of his desk. Three decades was a long time to end a relationship, three decades and two planets and an immeasurable distance, but whenever the clock pushed past midnight and he found himself alone at his private desk, he still looked for the liquid companion that he had left so far behind.

xcxcxcxcxcxcxcxcxcxcxcxc

The short alien took a deep breath and tried one more time. "If you would just let me see the material..."

"No."

Why had Pelias expected anything different? But his curiosity rivaled his love of pizza, so he persisted. "I find it so so so intriguing that the brainjack command was delivered visually, you see? Ha ha, literally, do you see? But in this case it wasn't activated until..."

"No." The human technician removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Pelias knew that Solan's gesture was due not to eye-strain but to exasperation, the equivalent to a Ma-non tugging at his ears. Good. Let him feel some of Pelias' own frustration.

"Why not? Surely you don't think it will affect me the same way it affects your mechanical selves?"

"That material is restricted. End of discussion."

Pelias shrugged. He'd ask someone else, later. He waved vaguely at the examination room they'd just left. "Well, I've done my best with your soldier. I managed to isolate the memory looping in his brain and tether it to ..." His human companion was no longer listening, Pelias was quite sure of that. He shrugged his small shoulders again. "Good luck clearing the rest of your affected people. If you need me to reset him to an earlier state, you know where to find me, okay?" Third booth on the left at Army Pizza, drowning his frustrations in a radish, mustard and feta pie.

xcxcxcxcxcxcxcxc

Vandham spotted Lila from a distance, skimming through the busy crowd of the Commercial Sector. Her speed was probably part of that "run blindfolded until you get there" stunt she pulled. He was right. She didn't notice when his simian-sized bulk moved her path. He had her steered under to the nearest convenient awning and had placed himself between her and the rest of the world before she shook her head and looked at him.

"I heard you missed a meeting with Sakuraba the other day, Brown."

Usually she corrected his brusque manners with a formal greeting followed by a few moments of painfully obvious small talk. Not today. She was already inching away from him. "Something came up at the station, Commander. Excuse me, I have-"

"I heard it was some_one_."

That stopped her. Her eyes locked onto his. "Are you keeping tabs on me, sir?"

He gave her a loose smile. "I have an attache who enjoys gossip, although he wouldn't call it that."

"You need to do better with Case," she blurted.

The silver sparkles in her eyes were burning. If she was itching for a fight, he'd be glad to provide one. "What's bugging you, Brown? Go on, spit it out."

She did exactly that, each word aimed like a knife. "Do better for her."

"How, exactly?" He crossed his arms and looked down indulgently at her. He knew that pissed her off. He also knew that was exactly what she needed to finally tell him what was screaming in her head. He hoped this was a good idea.

"You send her out and she gets hurts and no one checks on her. Do better."

"We checked. She got fixed. She's just fine."

"She's not fine, Commander. She came to me. ME." The tap on her chest was implied but clear. He could hear the surprise in her voice, and her disappointment at Case's choice. "That means you let her down. You need to be doing better follow-ups on your people if they're coming to me."

"You telling me how to do my job, Brown?"

"You need to keep her from getting hurt like that again," she insisted.

"I can't promise you that. Look, Lila, she's a BLADE. We need to take some risks. I can't keep the Ganglion from doing their crap. Or the goddamned planet."

"That doesn't mean we have to finish the job for them!" Her eyes flickered shut and she pushed an errant strand of hair from her temple. When she continued, she was calmer but her emotions were as deep. "People go out and come back hurt and we pretend that nothing happened. We can't keep doing that."

"You sure you're talking about Case?" he asked slowly.

She jerked her head slightly but her eyes didn't waver. "Our generation is cursed, Commander. There's no hope for us. After what we've lost, we will never be happy. But Case doesn't deserve that. Not her and not the other new citizens."

"How much do you-"

He might as well not have tried to interrupt her. "If you break her again, I don't think I'll be able to help her. If you break her, we don't deserve to have her, and we might as well give up on our future as well as our past."

They stared at each other. After a heartbeat, she relaxed the fists she'd held by her sides. "Excuse me. I really need to get somewhere."

"Sakuraba?" he hazarded, noting her neat tunic and skirt.

"Eleonora," she corrected him.

He repressed a wince. It seemed Lila was heading into a more formal reprimand. "Lucky you," he said dryly.

"I requested the meeting."

He prided himself on being able to move fast, but he couldn't avoid the stinging clip from her shoulder as she pushed past him.

xcxcxcxcxcxcxcxcxcxc

Eleonora looked at the paper with disgust. The assistant that thought blacking out a few sentences would be effective was delusional. Photoshopping couldn't help them either, and neither would forgery. There was no way in this wide world that she would allow this letter to reach its addressee.

Although ... it might be a chance to use what they'd learned from the e-mail attacks. To see if the mechanic could be made physical. Apply it to an innocent slip of paper, deliver it to Case, see how the girl handled herself ...

She shook her head, folded the letter twice, then a third time, and slipped it into her pocket. Her fingers brushed her comm device, reminding her of a different question that nagged at her. After months of silence, why had Commander Vandham sent Lila a one-line text? "_I promise._"

Those two, yet another resource that she couldn't quite make proper use of, not that she wouldn't continue to try.

* * *

**a/n: Shameless plug time! Pelias the OC pizza fiend is talking about the email attacks which drove people to violence and madness, from "Inktober 2018"/Ch. 10-20 (Poison Ink). Fun times with Eleonora & Lila (Eleonora was Lila's not-always-effective control) in "The Lily and the BLADE"/Ch. 7 and 21. **

**Thank you for reading. Case is currently level 20-29, Mastermind, say hi to her. Have a good summer and see you in the fall.**


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